


A Tale of Two Stylists

by SirenNightshade



Category: Jane by Design
Genre: Continuation, Double Life, F/M, Fluff, High School, M/F, Romance, conclusion, donovan decker, fashion - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22928320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirenNightshade/pseuds/SirenNightshade
Summary: Two fashion prodigies continue their lives after the abrupt end to the series, only now they both know the truth. They have each other's backs. And it's about to bring them closer than ever before.
Relationships: jane quimby/eli chandler
Comments: 19
Kudos: 28





	1. When It All (Almost) Came Crashing Down

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of thought went into this story, namely the fact that -- in my opinion -- Jane and Eli make a much better couple than Jane and Billy ever would. They make for a better story. The age difference forces space between them when neither of them want it, and Billy's relationship with Zoe slowly pushes Jane towards Eli, as well. I know that originally the plan was to have Billy and Jane get together, but I was just never feeling it. Billy and Zoe are perfect for each other, as are Jane and Eli, so it feels unfair to introduce the both of them just to add pain and heartache for Jane. 
> 
> I'm taking this story in another direction -- because I feel this is, in the end, the better one. 
> 
> I don't need anyone to agree with me. I'm writing this for me, and posting it for any other Eli lovers out there. I simply want to bring this story, with all its potential, to a conclusion that satisfies all the characters...not just two. 
> 
> Taking notes from what the original story was supposed to be, I've decided to include the lesser things as well (Rita and Ben getting engaged, for example) but it won't be the focus by any means. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Universe:** Jane By Design

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing)

**Characters:** Jane Quimby, Eli Chandler

**Tags:** romance, fluff, fashion, m/f, high school, double life, donovan decker, continuation, conclusion

* * *

* * *

* * *

_ Deer in the headlights. _

That’s what they called this moment, that instant when you’re so paralyzed by what you’re seeing that you can’t react. You can only stare, petrified, even your mind halted.

Jane was having that moment right now.

Things had been going so well, too. She’d succeeded in repairing the costumes for the play, she’d succeeded in tracking down Jeremy and enlisting him at the last possible second to save Donovan Decker, and though it felt like her personal life was falling apart, she’d been clinging to her career life as the one source of light to lead her forward.

Then came Gray and Eli, heading backstage to give compliments to the fashion director. And Jane didn’t know how to spin this one to save herself.

She could see the wheels turning in Gray, but she could tell Eli seemed to have gotten it. That made sense; he’d shown more interest in her in the last month than Gray had in the last half year. Hell, she’d admitted that she was keeping a secret, so he already knew she’d been lying about  _ something. _

Gray had had no idea.

Jane took that with a minuscule amount of pride. She’d managed to keep Gray totally in the dark about her truth despite the numerous close calls there’d been during her stint as Gray’s assistant.

A position she would likely not have by morning.

And...somehow...that was a relief. No, not relief; it was more like Jane felt almost nothing as she was confronted with this scenario. Apathy descended, and she found herself  _ almost _ glad to be able to clear the air. As much as she’d loved working at Donovan Decker, she was just  _ tired _ now.

Exhausted.

“Jane?” Gray prompted, a cold warning to her tone that Jane was  _ very _ familiar with by now.

And though she was being stared down by this older and far more powerful woman, Jane lifted her chin. With apathy came freedom, she was discovering, and she capitalized on that.

Or...she meant to, anyway. She intended to lay it all out -- everything -- but Eli beat her to it.

“Surprise,” he interrupted, shifting to stand beside Jane and face Gray. “When Jane heard you were going to be attending this charity event,” he began, giving Jane insistent nods as he went, “she wanted to make sure that at least one thing was worth your time, so she was overseeing the costume department.”

When he gave her another telling nod, Jane agreed, “Oh -- yeah, exactly! And I was planning to just...keep back here and...not tell you,” she informed Gray, “but I guess I did too good of a job, because here I am! Haha...and here you are...”

Gray was visibly suspicious, but she worked out, “So you only wanted  _ me _ to not be terribly bored.”

“Right!” Jane and Eli said in unison. They shared a glance; awkward, Jane looked away again.

“Hmm,” was Gray’s measured response. “This school -- Whitemarsh, is it?”

Now confused, Jane answered, “Yes?”

“Isn’t this the same school you interviewed a few months ago?”

“Yes -- good memory,” Jane approved with a positive gesture. Then, a little panicked, she tried, “This...was  _ my _ school. So I just feel kind of attached. I spend a lot of time here,” she added in a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s...also kind of where I get a lot of my inspiration. The kids and their ‘wear who you are’ styles, you know. It’s just so...inspiring! With their -- th-their clothes and styles and stuff! That kind of--”

Eli nudged her with his elbow.

“...thing,” she finished quietly.

Gray afforded them both another suspicious look, then seemed to drop it. Loud and clear, she declared, “Well, you did a fantastic job. The play was hideous, but the costumes...were not. If only every major theater had a Donovan Decker stylist helping them, am I right?” she hinted.

“Completely,” Jane agreed, gesturing her.

“Absolutely,” Eli said at the same time.

They shared another awkward glance.

Accepting the rather blatant lie, Gray relented, saying, “Alright, well, it’s over now. We’re free,” she told the two of them. “Come along. I’ll see you both taken home.”

Jane and Eli were both scrambling to decline, speaking over one another.

“Oh, thanks, that’s so nice, but I live really close anyway--”

“I was actually thinking I’d stay here for a little while--”

“--but thanks for the offer, it’s very kind--”

“--just...hang out, you know, designer to designer, critique the clothing--”

“Whatever,” Gray interrupted them, waving her hand. “Don’t stay out too late, either of you. We have work in the morning. Eight o’clock sharp.” She barely waited for confirmations from them before striding off, headed back to her car.

Once she was out of sight, Jane looked up, tentative; Eli turned his gaze to her, shocked.

“You’re in high school?” he demanded.

“No!” she denied. Then, hedging, she corrected quietly, “Y...es...”

He ran his hand over his face, dumbfounded, and paced in a circle before coming back to her, laughing. “You’re serious? This was your big thing, the thing you were keeping from me?”

At a loss, she shrugged, offering, “Surprise? You’re...not younger than me!”

“Apparently!” he retorted, still overwhelmed.

And it hit her that everything had just changed. Eli knew -- he’d figured it out before she’d said a word, which was kind of impressive considering he was the first to do that -- and...in his eyes, she’d changed. She wasn’t the cool and mature 25-year-old he’d thought she was, a woman older than himself. She was, in fact, six years younger. A teenager, still almost a year away from adulthood.

Knowing all this...kind of hurt. She hadn’t realized she’d liked their former relationship so much until now -- that of him being the young prodigy and her the experienced designer. Whatever mystique she’d offered once was now void.

She’d liked being someone he looked up to.

Subdued, she muttered, “Sorry,” and started to retreat. She didn’t see his reaction as she dropped her gaze and shuffled around, but she didn’t need to. He’d covered for her (which was  _ amazing _ by itself), but he’d received a heavy shock from this discovery. He was probably disappointed and betrayed.

She couldn’t blame him for either.

“Jane--” he started.

He was cut off by the fire alarm suddenly blaring to life, several screams heard from the building as numerous people were surprised by the noise. Then something collided with her, tearing a shriek from her, and she was flung off her feet. She was spun as she fell, landing on something warm and stiff but definitely softer than the hardwood flooring.

Shocked, she twisted around, spotting -- Billy?! -- as her cushion. He gave her a sheepish grin.

Whispering, she hissed, “What are you doing?! I told you to go with Zoe!”

“You needed help,” he returned, sounding offended. “That guy -- he’s from your work, right?”

“Yeah?” she answered.

“Well, he can’t know!” he reminded her. “I’m saving you.”

“Billy--” she started, a little angry with a headache blooming from all this stress and the alarms going off in the background.

Then, looking past her, he suddenly twisted, and she squeaked as she went from laying atop him to beside.

Eli’s voice cut in, saying, “Hey -- get off her!”

Oh, man. Eli looked  _ pissed _ (kind of understandably, given the situation) and he dove down to haul Billy back. Knowing this was going to spiral into a fight  _ very _ quickly, she struggled to get to her heeled feet before the crap could hit the fan.

Billy flailed as he was yanked to his feet and shoved Eli back, snapping, “Hey -- back off!”

“Back off?” Eli echoed with disbelief. Leaning in, he shouted, “You just  _ jumped _ on--”

Jane inserted herself between them, introducing quickly, “Eli, Billy; Billy, Eli! Coworker, complicated best friend,” she hinted, patting Eli’s chest, then Billy’s. “Everybody knows everything, okay? Chill out, both of you.”

They looked each other over, then towards her, then back to one another. They both seemed to be getting it, understanding that they were both on the same level now.

And, finally, Eli shook himself, saying, “Fine, fine! But we have to get out. That’s the fire alarm.”

“A false alarm,” she corrected under her breath.

He paused in the midst of taking a step, checking, “What?”

Awkward, Billy explained, “I pulled the fire alarm to protect Jane. From you. There’s no fire.”

Eli looked irritated, to say the least. She gave him a wincing grin, apologizing, “Sorry...”

Then, clicking in, Billy glanced at her, asking, “Did you say ‘complicated best friend’?”

Oops. “Yes?” she offered meekly.

“What’s complicated about it?” he demanded, offended.

She was too tired for this. “I’ll explain later,” she told him, starting to push him forward. To Eli, she said, “We should still go out, at least. The fire department will be here soon.”

Clearly at a loss, he gestured her, agreeing, “Yeah. And then maybe we can...talk.”

She...really didn’t want to talk right now, but she gave him a quiet affirmative. And as they headed out, Zoe met Billy mid-stride and took his hand, still wearing the Cindy dress. As she whispered quickly to Billy, the two of them sharing some kind of information, Jane pined over the dress that had, unfortunately, never been hers.

She told Eli under her breath, “By the way -- that dress? That’s the one I was going to wear to our date. It got...repurposed. A case of mistaken costume display. It ended up getting altered just an hour before the date and I didn’t notice. Didn’t fit me anymore.”

He looked it over, then gave her a small smile. “It’s gorgeous,” he approved.

Disappointment filled her. Damn, but she’d loved that dress. And she couldn’t hide the sadness in her voice as she sighed, “Yeah...I know.”

At least Zoe looked amazing in it.

Outside, they found Gray still waiting, looking concerned. When she spotted Eli and Jane she came over, checking, “Is everyone alright? Where’s the fire?”

Billy wisely shuffled away with Zoe, keeping out of this.

A little worried she might be spotted, Jane led Gray and Eli aside by striding towards Gray’s car, explaining, “Ah -- we don’t know, we didn’t see it. Just, you know, got out. But, knowing teenagers, it was probably a prank,” she concluded. “So...nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, well, that’s good, then,” Gray commented. “I’d hate to see such fine costumes go up in flames.”

Gesturing Eli, Jane directed, “You should, um, just go with Gray, and I’ll--” she glanced back to where Billy was, “--catch a cab.”

“A fine idea,” Gray agreed. She turned, heading away.

Eli didn’t follow, giving Jane a steady look. “I think I’ll share that cab with Jane. Make sure she gets home alright,” he told Gray.

The older woman was clearly beyond caring, giving them a vague wave as she stepped into the back of her vehicle. As she was taken away, Jane gave Eli a stern look.

“Share a cab?” she echoed. With a gesture towards the direction Gray had gone, she added with irritation, “That was your chance to get out of here!”

Eli nodded, replying, “I would’ve, any other time. Right now, we need to talk.”

She made a sound of disgust. “I’m too tired to talk.”

“I’ll get you a coffee,” he returned, “but I need answers. I’m not letting you get in a wink until then.”

She glowered. “When’d you get so serious?” she complained. “What happened to fun, quirky Eli who keeps making jokes I don’t laugh at?”

“Fun, quirky Eli kind of had his heart broken,” he told her.

She winced, guilt descending. “Sorry,” she muttered for the umpteenth time. Then, rallying, she offered, “Okay -- fine. You pick the cab and the place and I will...try not to pass out.”

“Fantastic,” he murmured under his breath. He gestured them onwards, and with a glance back to check on Billy, she followed.

Billy was talking to a teacher, nodding, hands up. It was clear he was being questioned, and Zoe was defending him. He’d be fine, Jane realized. He didn’t need her to jump to his defense the way he’d jumped to hers.

He had Zoe now.

* * *

It was strangely difficult, doing this talk again -- harder than the other times she’d had to give it. Convincing Billy hadn’t been hard, really, and Kate had accepted it quite easily. Ben had been the daunting one, with Jane unsure if he’d see things her way. Ultimately she’d made her case well enough to keep living her double life.

Eli wouldn’t be so easy to convince, she could see. But, then, this was different than the other times. Eli was a coworker, someone who’d liked her -- once -- but barely knew her. And he’d been thrust into the middle of all this  _ truth _ unceremoniously, without any way of softening the blow.

As they sat on opposite sides in a cafe booth, a steaming cup for each of them, she found it hard to breach the subject.

Eli did it for her, asking, “How old are you?”

Shrinking down a fraction, she answered, “Seventeen.”

He inclined his head, a muted reaction from what she could clearly see was a world-rocking revelation. He echoed, “Seventeen.”

She nodded.

“You were posing as someone  _ eight years _ older,” he hinted.

“I know,” she muttered.

Looking like he’d had his mind blown, he leaned back, gazing out the window beside them. Dumbstruck, he said, “This whole time...I thought you were older than me. But--”

“Yeah, I know,” she cut in, starting to feel irritated. “Everyone’s always so disappointed in dumb Jane and her dumb scheme--”

Clicking back in, he gestured for her to wait, interrupting, “Wait, wait, wait -- who’s ‘everyone’? Who knows?”

“Billy, Ben, and my mom,” she answered easily. “And -- you, now.”

“Who’s Ben?” he checked.

“My brother,” she explained. Then, realizing Ben was back -- for good -- and probably wondering where she was, she reached for her phone...and realized she’d left her purse at the drama building.

She let her head fall back, examining the ceiling. “I’m dead,” she commented.

Eli, concerned, asked, “How...are you dead? I covered for you with Gray,” he pointed out.

Reminded of that, she reached out, grabbing his hands. “Yes -- and about that, thank you, so, so much. But I kind of...left my phone with my purse...at the drama hall,” she hinted.

“And...that’s bad...because..?” he prompted.

That’s right -- Eli didn’t know this, either. In a rush, she explained, “I live with my brother Ben -- or I did before he went to go play major league baseball, but then he came back and found out I’d been living alone for the last two weeks and he’s kind of mad at me because he thought Mom was home and Mom thought  _ he _ was home and I kind of lied to both of them so long story short, I’m not really allowed to just disappear on him and here I am, in a cafe, it’s almost ten, and I don’t have my phone so I can’t call him and tell him where I am.”

By the end Eli looked a little stunned. He replied, “Wow. You can say a lot in one breath.”

She offered a weak shrug, then said, “This is the part where I ask to borrow your phone for a minute.”

Sighing, he leaned back, his expression deadpanning. With a nod, he commented, “Of course. Why am I not surprised?” Even as he spoke, he shifted, clearly digging into his pocket.

“Because I’m predictable in how easily I screw up everything?” she murmured.

“That’s...you don’t screw up everything, Jane,” he told her as he handed the phone over.

“No,” she allowed, subdued, “just the important things.”

He didn’t seem to know what to say to that. As she dialed, he checked, “So I take it you’re calling Ben?”

She shook her head. “He just got a new phone, I don’t remember the number. But I remember Billy’s, so...” Number input, she lifted the phone to her ear.

Eli looked surprised. “You don’t know your brother’s number, but you know your complicated best friend’s?” he checked, doubtful.

“Look -- there’s a lot of phone numbers knocking around in here, thanks to Gray,” she told him, gesturing her head. “They don’t stick very well anymore.”

He made to reply, but she hushed him; Billy had just picked up.

He gave a confused, “Hello?”

“Billy, it’s me!” she declared.

“Jane?” he asked. “Where are you, whose phone are you using?”

“I’m with Eli,” she answered. “Listen, I left my purse at the drama club, my phone is in it, and I need you to grab it and let Ben know where I am and I’ll be home soon. Okay?”

Billy sounded alarmed. “Wait, you’re out with Eli? That guy you said had sex with another girl after the two of you had that date--”

“That’s really irrelevant right now,” she interrupted. “Can you just get my purse? I’m worried about it, okay?”

“Yeah -- no problem,” he returned sharply, “you know I’m at your disposal. You ring your little bell and I come running--”

Shaking herself, she demanded, “Wait, wait -- why do you sound so angry all of a sudden?”

“No reason, why would I be angry?” he spat.

_ Good question. _ “I don’t know -- I mean, you know, I’m the one whose life is super hard right now and it might all come crashing down by tomorrow while you’re off sipping daiquiris with your pretend-poor girlfriend--”

“You’re bringing Zoe into this?!” he snapped. “Classy, Jane. Real classy.”

Catching an awkward, impatient look from Eli, she hurried to finish, “Look, I just need you to get my purse before anyone else does. Can you do it or not?”

“Yeah, why not? I love being your personal slave.”

“If you’re going to be a  _ dick _ about it then I’ll just go back myself, and if I get in trouble with Ben I’ll let him know that it’s because you decided to dump me in my hour of need--”

“The thirteen-thousandth hour of need, you mean,” he cut in, annoyed. “I can’t even have  _ one _ night of just smooth sailing with you around!”

That...hurt. Her eyes stung as she replied quietly, “Remember that night you spent with Zoe, at my house, after throwing a party I couldn’t even attend? The party that ruined all of the play’s costumes, the party I didn’t even want to throw? Do you remember that? I remember being up all night, running around London, desperate to find someone who didn’t even want to be found, scared out of my mind that a lot of really talented, really...amazing people were going to end up getting fired. And then I couldn’t even rest cause as soon as I got back -- wrecked costumes, with only a few hours to fix them. I remember that like it was today.”

There was a long pause from the other end, and she could see Billy in her mind, wincing. She knew she’d just hit him where it hurt and, right then, didn’t care.

“I’m just asking you to make sure Ben knows where I am,” she continued. “It’s not like I’m putting you on a flight across the world and telling you to find a needle in a haystack or don’t come back.”

At length, he replied, “I’ll get it. Just don’t stay out too long, or Ben’s gonna be on  _ my _ ass about it.”

“Not a problem. Thanks -- bye,” she finished, ending the call and handing the phone back. But right now she couldn’t look at Eli; her gaze wandered, hiding the tears in her eyes as best she could.

She doubted he didn’t notice.

Hesitant, he ventured, “It just occurred to me that...this has probably been a lot harder on you than anyone else. Gray isn’t...an easy person to work for. She was always like that, really,” he chuckled, reminiscing. “When I was just...maybe six years old, she was already critiquing everything I drew. In crayon,” he hinted. “Teaching me all about fashion when I was still just learning basic math.”

That brought a little smile out of her. “I can see that, her standing over little kid Eli with a measuring tape and a red marker.”

Nodding, he agreed, “Not too far off from the reality. The point is,” he said, shifting to lean towards her, “Gray’s not...a gentle boss. And if you’re still in high school, then I can’t begin to guess what kind of stress you’re going through, having to deal with schoolwork  _ and _ my aunt. I came here feeling...indignant, and betrayed, and...angry, and I couldn’t decide if I was going to tell Gray or not.”

Jane lifted her gaze to him, begging, “Don’t tell her, please. It’s...yeah, it’s hard, but I love this job. It’s my dream job. I can’t tell you how lucky I feel, all the time, just to be able to enter that building and see everything, let alone getting to be involved in all of it. Don’t tell her,” she repeated, taking his hand again and squeezing it. “I want this to last as long as it can.”

He seemed to be reading her deeply, picking apart her emotions. And, for once, she let everything be seen. She wanted him to know, in no uncertain terms, how much she loved this life...and everyone in it.

He relaxed back, pulling his hand out of hers, and asked, “Tell me...how you ended up with this job in the first place.”

Hedging, she did so, recounting how Birdie had mistaken Jane for another person, how Gray hadn’t given Jane enough time to correct the mistake, how she’d gone in for the internship because of creditors calling her house, and she just couldn’t turn down $34,000 a year. It had saved them, her and her brother.

“I’ve never regretted it, not for a second,” she told him.

He looked stunned. “This...this is illegal, you know that?” he checked, pointing vaguely in her direction.

“You’re not the first to tell me that,” she returned. “Or the second. Or the third,” she hinted. “But even if it goes sideways...you can’t put a price on this kind of experience. I wouldn’t trade the world for it.”

“What about your freedom?” he pointed out. “You could go to prison for this. Not juvie -- prison,” he told her.

A terrifying thought, she allowed. But she shrugged it off, waving her hand flippantly. “Oh, that won’t happen. Probably. I hope.”

“You hope,” he echoed.

She shrugged again. “A girl can dream, right?”

At that, he gave a strangled laugh, repeating, “A girl -- right. A teenager.” He shook his head.

Oops. She hadn’t meant to bring attention to that -- again. Trying for levity, she ventured, “Seriously, what else could go wrong? I’ve already had to clean up Gray’s house after a party that went crazy, had to create and alter two separate collections with minutes to go, had to take a supermodel to school after she blackmailed me, ran around the city looking for a lost lookbook, been rushed to Paris  _ and _ London, got accused of corporate espionage, got sent after India more than once to spy on her, saved Gray’s job -- I think five times, now, most of which she never even knew about--”

Eli waved his hands, halting her monologue. “You have...really impressive lungs,” he cut in, “but I think the less I know, the better.”

Confused, she asked, “But didn’t you bring me here for answers? I specifically remember that part.”

“Answers to questions I ask,” he corrected, “not answers to questions I haven’t and probably never should, from the sound of it.”

She shut her mouth, biting her lips.

He took a slow breath then, lingering, and exhaled it with gentle nods. At length, he lifted his hands in surrender. “Alright,” he relented, “I won’t tell Gray. Promise.”

Feeling like she might cry, she reached out again, snagging his hands once more and holding tight. “Thank you, Eli.”

He looked torn, but he gave her a smile, nodding. “Eventually, you’re going to have to come clean. You know that, right, Jane?”

Shrugging a shoulder, she offered, “I know. I just...don’t want to lose this yet.”

Taking that in, he replied. “Okay. You can count on me. But,” he added sharply before she could start celebrating, “I want you to take better care of yourself in the meantime. No more all-nighters. Your priority needs to be graduation.”

Flippant, she waved a hand. “Oh, that’s no big deal. I’m a Junior, so I have a whole year before--”

The look on his face cut her off. He was stunned. And it hit her then that she’d just put into clarity just  _ how _ young she was.

They’d made out. On the street. Him, and an underage girl.

Wincing, she offered, “No more all-nighters. I agree. I’ll even turn down the international flights from now on. Deal?”

He cleared his throat, nodded, inclined his head. “Deal. Now I think I should get you home.” He didn’t wait for her response, climbing out of the booth and offering her a hand.

Taking it, she slid out, twisted to stretch her back, and followed him from the cafe.

That was one more crisis averted. But, she knew, her luck wouldn’t last forever. One of these days something was going to come right at her and she wouldn’t be able to dodge it.

Glancing towards Eli, she felt a  _ little _ more confident. Having someone inside Donovan Decker who knew her secret could lighten her load -- a lot -- and the fact that this made him the fifth person who knew calmed her even more. She wasn’t so naive as to believe she could keep this going until graduation, but she’d hang on for as long as she could.

Hopefully having Billy on the outside and Eli on the inside would be just enough to lessen her considerable load, too. Not that she liked the idea of using them, of course, she just really needed the help.

And, she amended as they got into a taxi, she might just be needing that help sooner rather than later. If Billy hadn’t made it to Ben yet...

On the bright side, she’d already decided what kind of headstone she wanted for her tomb. 

* * *

Ben was awake and displeased when Jane arrived, and thanks to Eli insisting he meet her brother -- for context, he said -- Ben’s mood dropped further when she actually came in.

He heard the door first, and came around the corner with, “I’ve been informed you went to a cafe with a guy...named Eli,” he finished after a pause.

Jane gestured the male in question as he shut the door behind him. “Ben, this is Eli; Eli, Ben.”

Was it just her or was Ben standing taller than ever before as he strode over? He seemed to be stretching his neck up higher than it could go...as if he were trying to be the tallest person in the room, or trying to intimidate Eli...

There was  _ maybe _ an inch of difference in their height, with Eli the clear winner -- not that he seemed to care. He tended to slouch anyway.

Ben strode right up to Eli, crossed his arms, and stared the other man down. “So,” he began.

Eli, hands in his pockets, didn’t look the least bit cowed. He offered his hand, introducing, “Eli Chandler.”

“Ben Quimby,” Ben replied, giving the appendage a  _ much _ too firm shake. Ignoring Eli’s obvious discomfort, he demanded, “So I understand you took my little sister out for a date...and she never told me,” he added with a side-eye towards Jane.

Oh. Right. She hadn’t told him, had she?

Eli cleared his throat, awkward. “That...I did.” He glanced at her.

Giving Ben a wincing smile, she hedged, “W-well, I didn’t...think...you wanted to hear about that kind of stuff. And anyway nothing happened -- I mean, nothing big...that’s not what I mean,” she said to herself. “Let’s start over. My name is Jane and I have a bad habit of talking too much. I’m going to bed,” she muttered, shuffling by.

Ben caught her by the arm. “Not so fast,” he began, stern. “We still have a talk to get to.”

She huffed. “Does it have to be tonight? I haven’t slept since yesterday,” she hinted.

That worried him and he checked, “Yesterday? What have you been doing?”

“Well we had a crisis at work and Gray sent me on a plane to London and I was there all night and then today I had to fix the--”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa -- London?” he demanded.

She sighed. “Yeah, London. Tomorrow, okay, Ben? I’ll tell you everything. I just really need some sleep.”

Tossing a gesture towards Eli, Ben asked, “Then why’d you bring him?”

She also gestured Eli, answering, “He insisted. Talk, or...whatever. Good night.”

Ben sighed as she strode off, then called, “Your purse is on your nightstand. I checked, everything’s there.”

“Thanks!” she called back, all but drifting through her doorway. She barely had the cognizance to close the door and undress before falling into bed, too exhausted from the long day -- and all the emotional stresses therein -- to even bother grabbing pajamas as she normally would.

She just hoped the two boys in the living room played nice. 


	2. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing) 

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* * *

* * *

Well, this was...awkward, Eli thought. He hadn’t expected Jane to just bail on him immediately upon getting her home, leaving him to navigate some very tense waters with her brother. Alone. 

Ben was in full “big brother” mode, standing with his arms crossed as tall as he could possibly be. He looked disapproving, and after tonight’s revelation, Eli couldn’t blame him. 

He began cautiously, “So, did...Jane ever mention me?” 

Terse, Ben replied, “She did. A few times.” 

That was helpful, at least. “But she never mentioned our date?” 

“No, she didn’t,” Ben answered, tossing a glance over his shoulder the way Jane had left. Then, with a sigh, he relaxed a fraction, saying, “But I guess that’s not your fault.” 

Guessing that Ben hadn’t put two and two together yet, Eli explained, “She told me. About her being in high school. Well -- I figured it out first, then she told me. So I know. As of now. Tonight,” he clarified. 

Though he expected Ben to seem at least moderately relieved by that, he looked the opposite: he grew more tense, muscles bunching up. 

“And?” he bit out. “Are you going to tell on her?” 

Eli shook his head. “I couldn’t. Not in good conscience. She’s a good person, just...made a really hasty decision.” 

That helped Ben to relax again, and he breathed a sigh. “Good, I’m -- glad you agree. But, uh...between you and me,” he added, leaning in and lowering his voice; when Eli did the same, he advised, “No more dates. I don’t know how old you are but I’m sure it’s over twenty.” 

“Twenty-three,” Eli corrected, easing back. He wasn’t surprised by that order; in Ben’s shoes, he would’ve made the same vague threat. “And you don’t have to worry. I’m not going to...try anything.” 

Ben sighed again. “Great. But, uh...be honest,” he pressed. “You took her on a date before. Did you try anything  _ then?” _

Awkward, Eli hedged, “I -- no. We...kissed, but trust me, it’s not happening again.” 

Then, confused, Ben said, “Okay, now I’m offended on Jane’s behalf. Why wouldn’t it happen again?” 

Gesturing where he assumed Jane’s bedroom was, Eli blurted, “She’s seventeen! If I’d known that before -- I thought she was twenty-five,” he informed Ben. “That’s how many candles were on her birthday cake. I thought I was dating an older woman, not a...teenager.” 

And he had conflicting feelings about that, to be honest. On the one hand, it was thrilling as Hell, reminding him of when he’d been in high school and the girls he’d dated then. But on the other...he was  _ six years _ older than her. He’d graduated  _ college _ over a year ago. She wasn’t even a Senior in high school yet. 

Guilt roiled in his gut. Sure, he’d enjoyed their date and wouldn’t have changed anything, in the end, and he recalled their little makeout quite fondly...but now it was tinged with negativity. In a way, he was angry at Jane for it, too; she’d agreed to the date, knowing she was underage, and let him come on to her like that. The way she’d kissed him back…god, it was hard to forget. 

She should’ve done the mature thing and kept him at arm’s length, though in retrospect he couldn’t blame her for not doing so. She was a teenager, after all. She probably hadn’t given it a second thought. He wouldn’t have, in her place. And if she’d liked him as much as he’d liked her, well, saying “no” probably hadn’t even occurred to her. 

He just...felt bad, now. And he was still heartbroken, but with context that had eased a bit. Learning what her big secret was and why she’d pushed him away those few times...it helped relieve the ache. When she’d said, “It’s not you, it’s me,” she’d meant it. And, knowing that...it wasn’t so painful anymore. 

He just also felt ridiculous for ending up in bed with India, now, too. It’d been a hasty, impulsive decision all along, and he recognized that, but knowing he’d turned to her because of how a  _ teenager _ had been making him feel...it was shameful. 

He was still frustrated, of course, though now it was for a different reason. And as much as he still liked Jane, after everything they’d discussed he just wasn’t seeing it working out. Best to take some big steps back, then, he decided. And it was disappointing. He’d really been into her. She’d been on his mind often, an intriguing and mature figure he’d been  _ very _ attracted to, a woman who didn’t trip all over herself around him (an effect he was more than used to getting) -- a woman who, in fact, had challenged him as a designer and consistently been more focused on her work than snagging his attention. 

God, she’d made him feel giddy more than once, like  _ he _ was still a teenager. And maybe this was why: because  _ she _ was. But, ultimately, he didn’t see himself getting back to that point of trust and belief again. Finding out just how big of a lie she’d lain out...it broke his heart. And if he couldn’t trust her, what was the point of trying again? 

It really sounded like she’d be better off with her “complicated best friend”, though learning that Billy had a girlfriend certainly added to the “complicated” part. It was no wonder Jane had been looking elsewhere for romance, then; the person she probably felt the most for was already taken. 

A crappy situation all around -- except for Billy, it seemed. 

At length, Ben nodded, agreeing, “Yeah, I was worried about that. From what she’d said, I knew she liked you, but I figured...no mention of dates, clearly nothing is happening. Clearly,” he added to himself. 

Eli grimaced. “If it’s any help, I feel like crap now. I never would’ve taken her out on a date if I’d known.” 

Inclining his head, Ben said, “That’s good to know. So,” he intoned then, forcibly more cheery, “what’s the situation? Does she still have a job?” 

Nodding, Eli confirmed, “Yeah. Aunt Gray almost caught her tonight, but I covered for her.” 

“And...are you going to keep...covering for her?” Ben checked, cautious. 

That was harder to answer. Hesitant, Eli tried, “I...guess? For now, anyway. It really depends on what comes next,” he offered. “I won’t rat her out -- not unless she does something...really bad, but so far she doesn’t seem capable of ‘bad’. But I told her she needs to come clean eventually, and she should be focusing on her schoolwork first.” 

Gesturing him, Ben blurted, “That’s what I told her! But she keeps taking on these huge loads, stuff way too heavy for a teenage girl to carry--” 

“Exactly! She’s had at least half a dozen all-nighters since I’ve been working there, and before that Aunt Gray was even harder on her--” 

“She’s a slave driver,” Ben declared, “honest to God. I don’t know how anyone works with her.” 

“From what I heard, assistants don’t tend to last very long,” Eli told him. “Jane’s held the position longer than most. So far,” he added to himself. “But she’s proven to be a lot more capable and responsible than most of the others. It’s incredible that she can manage it while attending high school.” 

At that, Ben smiled to himself. “I don’t know how she does it, but I’m proud of her. She keeps this up, she’s gonna take the world by storm. You know...in a few years, at least,” he concluded. 

“I’d believe it,” Eli agreed. “My aunt likes to say I’m a fashion prodigy, but I think Jane’s one, too. Maybe more than I am, it’s hard to tell.” 

Ben looked intrigued. “Fashion prodigy?” he echoed. At Eli’s nod, he hummed. “Never thought of her like that. Is she really that good?” 

Dumbfounded, Eli gestured in her general direction. “Have you seen her closet? Because I haven’t, but I’ve seen her at work, and her style is incredible. I’m willing to bet whatever’s in her closet would be priceless just to  _ see _ . Not a lot of people come close to that, and considering she’s not even a high school graduate yet?” He gave a low whistle. “She’s impressive. I always thought so, but after this, it hits harder.” 

Ben looked downright proud, then. Nodding to himself, he said, “Well, it’s good to know she’s already making waves. She’s always said that fashion is her dream, and I’m glad she gets to watch it come true.” He paused, then continued, “You know, she told me she took this job because we needed the money, but she loves it so much she’d do it for free.” 

A  _ pang _ hit Eli right in the chest: empathy. That was exactly his stance on fashion, too, and now he understood more clearly why he’d been so drawn to her. She was him -- a few years younger, granted, but they clearly had the same ideals. 

God, he liked her. 

And, damn it, it was wrong to even  _ think _ things like that. 

Awkward, now, he hedged, “Yeah, well, that’s what we look for at Donovan Decker, so I’m not surprised.” He was  _ completely _ lying. “Anyway, I just wanted to meet you, let you know where I stand, how things are going at work, yada yada…” 

“Right, right,” Ben agreed, giving him a pat on the arm. “Well, tell you what: we exchange numbers in case we need to contact each other, then you can be off. Let me know if she gets in any trouble at work and I’ll come running. Got it?” 

Eli was already retrieving his phone, nodding. “Got it. And for the record, I’m glad she has a brother like you.” 

Ben inclined his head. “For the record, I’m glad she has a coworker like you.” 

Eli smiled. 

And it was strange, but something felt weirdly  _ good _ about this situation. It was bizarre, but he was officially watching over a high school student pretending to be an experienced adult fashion designer and he found himself looking forward to it, even considering the fact that he’d crushed on her  _ hard _ \-- before learning the truth about her. 

Granted, this whole debacle was strange, but still. This was the strangest part. That, and the fact that he couldn’t quite tell if he was still crushing on her or not, of course. Either way, he refused to make any more moves on her; being six years older than a girl whom he now knew was still in high school -- and knowing he hadn’t known that when they made out on the street -- left him feeling  _ very _ uncomfortable. 

Best to have absolutely zero repeats of  _ that.  _

* * *

For once, Gray Chandler Murray looked pleased. She gathered the department together for a declaration, thanking everyone for their hard work and confirming that their latest deal was done. All they had to do was fill any orders received from on high if requested (unlikely, as Donovan Decker had only needed to provide the designs, but who could predict the future?) and otherwise they were free to proceed with any personal projects for the next three days, at least. 

She also declared that India was back on the payroll, though the woman in question was currently in London, making sure to keep things smooth with Donovan Decker’s current overlord. India was officially lead designer for the company -- the position that had once been Gray’s. 

Jane was quite happy with all the developments...right up until that last one. Then her smile faded and a bleak horizon stretched out before her. 

Most the other employees were of the same mind, silence and hesitation descending. They all remembered what a horror India had been and how much more relaxed things had become without her presence. And now she’d be back -- with  _ more _ authority? 

Jane gave an embarrassing whimper. India already wanted Jane ousted from the company; she could only imagine what kinds of horrendous things India would be assigning to her from this moment forward. Her only hope was Gray; if her boss could keep her busy, out of India’s line of sight and path of destruction… 

It was a flimsy hope, but one she clung to regardless. 

Once everyone dispersed, returning to their duties, Eli leaned in, concerned. “Was India really that bad?” he checked, doubtful. 

Jane could only stare for a moment; then, snapping out of it, she informed him bluntly, “She was a nightmare. There wasn’t an  _ hour _ that went by without her screaming at someone for something. And she was always scheming -- I caught her no less than three times trying these elaborate plots to make Gray look bad to get her fired. They weren’t easy to stop, either. She plans really well.” 

A little dumbstruck, he ventured, “Well, she hasn’t been like that since I’ve been here. Maybe she matured?” 

Jane wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but she heard herself replying, “No -- she wanted us to fail. She’s much worse when she wants us to  _ succeed.”  _

Carter was in earshot, and now he agreed, “Mm-hmm. She scary. Trust me, you don’t want to be caught in an elevator with her.” Then, shaking his head, he added, “Don’t know what Jeremy saw in her.” 

Awkward, Eli offered, “Maybe there’s more to her than meets the eye?” 

Jane gave a laugh. “India? No way -- she wears everything on the surface. What you see is what you get.” 

“Are you sure?” he checked. “She’s never surprised you?” 

“Never in a good way,” she replied dryly. From the corner of her eye, she caught him wince; worried, she asked, “You okay, Eli?” 

“Just...contemplating the future,” he hedged. 

She gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Just keep out of her way and don’t talk back and she might not even notice you.” 

“Doubt it,” Carter called. 

“Not helping!” she shot back. 

Eli looked less than pleased, muttering, “Great.” Then, refocusing, he backed off a step and made a vague gesture behind him -- towards his office. “I’ll go ahead and...look over my sketches again.” 

“Oh -- okay, see you,” she replied, waving. And, she noticed, he pointedly didn’t look up again as he turned and headed off. That...caused a little  _ pang _ to hit her in the chest. 

She had sketches she was working on, too, plus another infamous list to hack through. Most of it was done already, but the deadline was a week away so she was taking it easy for the time being. Other than organizing another trunk event at Gray’s home roughly a month from now, nothing was particularly difficult, allowing her some relaxation -- for once. 

The next few hours went by in relative ease, with more socializing than work being done. And when Jane spotted Eli again, at the design table with Carter, she was hit with a pang. 

God damn, but he was beautiful, wasn’t he? It was hard to look away, yet just as hard to keep looking now that they were on rocky ground. And, well, maybe she could fix that. He’d sent her pretty deep into doubt the last time they’d spoken at work, giving her that “maybe you should be with him” line, but after everything that’d happened during the play she really didn’t want to even  _ try _ pursuing anything with Billy. 

It would be too weird, really. He was like a brother to her, and yeah, he was damn cute when he wanted to be. They got on well together; that was no surprise. But  _ dating? _ No -- not a chance. Even if she wanted to give that a try -- which she didn’t! -- he still already had Zoe. This morning they’d barely spoken because he’d been so enthralled with Zoe all day, focusing on her, talking about her… 

It was the same thing Jane had done when she’d been head over heels for Nick. And that’s how she knew Billy was totally smitten. Aside from feeling a bit of jealousy now that he was hanging out with someone else so much, Jane was happy for him. 

After that insanity with Lulu, he deserved better. He deserved to have a fun time, a fun girlfriend. She believed that, honest she did. 

She was just...kind of lonely as a result. And right in front of her was an incredible man, who understood everything she said and worked well with her and -- now that he knew her secret -- could be with her, nothing held back. 

It was pathetic, how much she wanted that. 

So, when Carter excused himself, she headed over. And, yeah, her heart was pounding from nerves already, but she was feeling extra brave today. 

Aiming to smooth things over with Eli, she began, “So, scale of one to ten, how much of a genius design did you make this time?” 

He glanced up when she spoke, then looked down again, giving a soft laugh. “Four, maybe,” he allowed. 

“Ouch.” 

“Yeah, well, even prodigies have to start at ‘one’ sometimes,” he joked. 

“That doesn’t sound like you. I thought a six was as low as you could go.” 

Giving a vague shrug, he replied, “You barely know me.” 

What a perfect segue. “On that note,” she ventured, hesitant, “I wanted to ask...is that offer to go to the movies still on the table?” 

Wow. She could  _ feel _ it as his mood sank, even though he barely shifted. His shoulders slumped the tiniest degree, but that was enough. 

Quiet, he answered, “No...it’s not.” 

And now  _ her _ mood plummeted, too. She couldn’t keep the disappointment from her voice as she asked, “...Why not?” She’d really hoped… 

He took a breath, then glanced up and away, answering, “You know why.” 

Because of her age? Hurt, she demanded, “What’s  _ that _ have to do with going to the movies?” 

“Everything,” he murmured. 

Lowering her voice, she said, “But you said you didn’t like that I was hiding things, and now I’m not. What’s the problem?” When he didn’t answer, shaking his head, she hissed, “What -- the truth is the problem, now?” 

Struggling, he bit out, “Things aren’t...the same anymore.” 

Oh -- god damn it! Frustrated, she argued low, “Are you serious? I wanted to go out with you -- I really did, that wasn’t a lie! And now that I’ve told you everything  _ and _ we both have free time, you’re telling  _ me _ no? What the Hell, Eli?” 

Under his breath, he shot back, “You’re a teenager -- you get that? This...can’t happen.” 

Two things came to light, then: one, he’d just traded one roadblock for another with her, implying that he always would; and two...he’d only glanced up at her  _ once _ during this entire conversation. 

Something cold filled her, and she murmured, “Look at me, Eli.” 

He didn’t. 

Huffing, her eyes starting to sting, she bit out, “You can’t even look at me? Wow. That feels amazing.” She caught him wincing as she said that, but with her current mood it was a point of satisfaction. Maybe it was vindictive of her, but after everything she  _ wanted _ him to regret. 

Still, it hurt to get turned down like this, and she turned from him to go see Gray, a destination in mind. She asked for the rest of the day off; still in her gracious mood, Gray granted the request. 

As Jane headed out of the building, she didn’t notice Eli watch her go. She was intentionally ignoring him, in fact. 

His conflicted expression went totally unnoticed by her. 

* * *

Things changed after that, and not for the better. 

It was subtle at first -- Ben announced that he and Rita were engaged and they were thrown a party to celebrate, Billy started going on more and more frequent dates with Zoe, India returned to Donovan Decker and began her hurricane of demands all over again -- but steadily things became harder for Jane. 

The distance between her and Billy  _ and _ her and Eli was crushing. She didn’t have that many friends, after all, and she’d never gone a day without talking to Billy before his incarceration. Now she would go a week without actually hanging out with him, barely speaking to him in passing at school. Totally ostracized, she found herself spending her lunches with Ben -- and, by extension, Rita. 

It was hard on her, seeing all these happy couples around. It was harder than ever, in fact, thanks to Billy not even being there when Lulu started to pull her tried-and-true bullying again. Every day Jane heard another half-dozen snide comments about her outfit and hair and schoolwork and general appearance. 

Little by little, pieces of her were being chipped away, her heart hardening. She grew less patient, less understanding. She wasn’t as nice at school, home or work. She smiled less. People were noticing, the few who still cared about her showing concern, but she found herself constantly rebuffing them. And she couldn’t blame herself for any of it. 

Jeremy was gone, off starting his own label, so she’d heard. India was, predictably, worse than ever, though thankfully Jane was usually too busy running errands for Gray to get picked on. Eli would barely speak to her and only with work-related information, and Billy was almost always distracted by Zoe. With Ben now overly focused on Rita all over again, Kate still somewhere in Ohio, and Gray as distant as ever, Jane suddenly felt...alone. Isolated. 

Everyone she normally would talk to were too busy for her, and those she didn’t want to talk to seemed to zero in on her as a result. The majority of the attention she was getting was negative. The only bright side was the fact that she was getting few surprises from work, so she didn’t need to call in any favors. 

It was painful, constantly. The only thing she really enjoyed anymore was when she was working on clothing, whether it be hers or someone else’s, but sadly she was an assistant first and foremost. She could only  _ assist _ with anything outside of her own home. 

And it was while she was getting ready for school one day, staring at herself in the mirror and trying to decide what kind of makeup -- if any -- to apply that she had an epiphany. 

She hated her reflection. 

That wasn’t to say she hated herself, because she didn’t. No, what she hated was the fact that she still looked like the same old Jane despite the monumental changes her life had undergone. And so, on a whim, she retrieved a pair of scissors and gave herself a haircut. 

She went short at the back, tight behind and between her ears, cutting off well over a foot of hair with each snip. But, well, she couldn’t quite smother the stylist in her, and so she left the rest of her hair a bit long -- enough to be curled, straightened, pinned, braided or otherwise changed with her mood. It hung down almost to her chin, the natural wave curling around her face. 

Then, running off a high from the drastic difference she was seeing, she chose a far different ensemble for the day than she’d originally planned. Striped capri pants, button-up shirt with a way-too-loose tie, suspenders, a choker, some mismatched accessories, stout heeled boots with little buckles… 

It wasn’t her normal by any stretch, but once she had that done and some dark, dramatic makeup applied, she kind of liked it. She curled her hair and flipped it up and forward, cascading over one side of her face, and pinned it back on the other side.  [ It was a big change ](https://www.deviantart.com/dragonslover1/art/Punk-Jane-832012132) , and she admitted easily that she didn’t have the experience with this kind of style to make it really look good, but it was oddly freeing. 

Ben was waiting for her when she exited her room, and he froze solid upon laying eyes on her, his coffee cup held up to his chin. 

Swinging her backpack into place and snagging her purse, she prompted, “Well? We going or what?” 

“Uh-huh,” was his automatic response. Shaking himself, he looked her over and demanded, “What’s...all this about?” 

She shrugged. “Wanted to try something new. Is it bad?” She did a spin for him. 

“Uh...hard to tell, it’s not really my thing,” he hedged. “But everything you wear looks good. It’s your gift.” 

“Awesome. Now we should get to it,” she hinted, heading for the door. 

Following her, he asked, “So I’ve been meaning to check in with you anyway, so here goes: what’s with you and Billy?” 

Shrugging, she answered, “He’s got a new best friend, now. That makes you,” she informed him, “my official best friend. Rejoice,” she called towards the sky. 

He gave a soft laugh. “Rejoicing. Honest. You just let me know if you have any problems with Billy, though,” he told her. 

She didn’t respond to that, another ache blossoming to life in her heart, as she slid into the passenger-side seat. And Ben didn’t press for one, thankfully. He was probably just as uncomfortable with the subject as she was. Right now she’d rather just not think about Billy and the painful distance between them. 

Once they were at school, she donned an aura of  _ I really don’t care _ (easy, that) and strode in for her first class, only stopping at her locker for as long as it took to put her bag away and retrieve the correct books for today. 

Lulu was there when Jane closed her locker, but she was so over this rivalry she just walked by, ignoring Lulu as the other girl started a wind-up insult. 

Harper, also present, was clearly trying to throw some words, too, but Jane afforded neither of them so much as a glance. And they were totally dumbfounded, unused to being ignored. 

Jane drew in a sense of power from that. 

School passed quickly, today. Billy was shocked when he spotted her new look, but she offered him only a shrug and a flippant, “Decided to channel some of your style. Not sure I like it.” 

“You look  _ really _ different,” he noted. 

“Kind of the point,” she returned. “Remember when you went preppy? Yeah? Well, I’m trying out punk.” 

He nodded, replying, “In that case, I have no place to say anything. You do look good, though.” 

“Thanks.” 

After school came work, and honestly, Jane was more nervous about walking through those doors in her current attire than going to school like this. Donovan Decker had a very particular look to it, after all, and this was the first time an employee would show up not quite adhering to the appearance it was supposed to portray. 

She drew stares, and she heard several employees murmuring to one another, asking who she was. Did she really look  _ that _ different, she wondered? 

Carter was the first person to approach her, checking as he wagged a finger at her from head to toe, “And, uh, who’s this supposed to be?” 

Shrugging, she answered, “Just Jane.” 

“Mm-hmm,” he returned, doubtful. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she told him. “I’m just playing around a bit.” 

Giving a vague wave at her, he replied, “Come see me after work. Might be able to do something about this.” 

“The offer is appreciated, but I’m good,” she said. “And today I have some designs to get cut, so…” That done, she headed for the fabric table, retrieving the supplies necessary to get working. Several sketches and half-done schematics were piled up on the table and ready to be translated into actual pieces. 

Her job was only to get the lines done, so she focused on that. Pencils in hand and various rulers at the ready, she started her work. 

It didn’t take but a few minutes for India to notice her and come over, crossing her arms with a disapproving air. 

Without looking at her, Jane said, “Something you need, India?” 

Eyes narrowed suspiciously, India demanded, “Were you trying to copy me?” 

Jane replied, “Always, India. You inspire me. Does it satisfy you?” 

She’d never looked up from her table. 

India grew only more dubious, checking, “You really think I’d believe that?” 

“You should. You’re the incredible, amazing, perfect India,” Jane told her, still marking her lines. “We all admire and venerate you and bow at your every passing. You’re just too beautiful and strong, and your style is beyond compare. We’re all beyond lucky just to be able to breathe in your perfume every day.” 

India looked like she was going to burst a vein, and she bit out, “You know what, Jane? I hate you more than anyone else in this business. More than--” 

Wincing, Jane turned to her, begging, “I’m so sorry, mistress! Please don’t beat me again! My only desire is to please you!” 

Fuming, India spun on her heel and stomped off, and though Jane knew some hapless intern was going to receive the brunt of this encounter, she soaked up some residual confidence. Then she returned to her work. 

Carter, witnessing the event, came over with shock. “Oh...my...word,” he began, almost speechless. “You...are my hero.” 

Smiling, Jane asked, “Liked that, did you?” 

“Mm-hmm, girl, you are the sass queen,” he told her. 

“Since when?” 

“Since you drove off the beast,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper. 

She chuckled. 

To her surprise, after another hour or so, Eli actually came to talk to her. She’d been so used to him avoiding her whenever possible that this immediately unbalanced her; she hadn’t expected him to come over. She hadn’t thought he had the capacity at this point. He was actually  _ looking _ at her, for once. 

Shocker. 

He sounded almost disappointed as he said, “What is this?” 

Knowing what he meant, she asked, “You mean the dark makeup and the short hair?” 

He gave a soft sigh. “If this is because of me--” 

“Oh, it is,” she assured him. “At least partly. You’re absolutely to blame.” 

“Jane…” he said, frustrated. 

“What? Going to tell me I didn’t have to change my image or anything?” she challenged. “I’m getting the impression you have no idea what I’m going through -- which is your fault, by the way.  _ You _ forced this distance. I didn’t want it.” 

“It was...necessary,” he tried. 

“So was this,” she returned, making a sweeping gesture at herself. 

Shaking his head, he demanded, “Why would you go this far, Jane? If you just wanted a haircut, you didn’t need to swap out your entire style--” 

“Is it really so hard to comprehend,” she interrupted, “that I just didn’t want to look in the mirror anymore and see the girl you liked so much? That this makes things easier on me?” He hesitated, looking conflicted; she went on, bitter, “Besides, as you just love to remind me, I’m a teenager. Tantrums are bound to happen.” 

Frustrated, he shot back, “This isn’t like you--” 

“How would you know? Every time I tried to show you who I am, you pushed me away,” she snapped. Then, turning back towards the table, she added more quietly, “My whole world is falling apart. It’s painful and aggravating and I don’t know how to deal with it. So don’t you stand there, all self-righteous, and tell me who you think I am and what I feel. You don’t get to decide that.” 

At a loss, he just gave her a sad look. 

Gray interrupted before they could get into it again, calling Jane into her office. And though Jane felt a subtle fear that she could get fired on the spot for this, somehow it didn’t bother her very much. This job was the only stable thing about her life right now, yet she wasn’t sure it would even impact her if she lost it here and now. 

She just felt too...empty to care. 

As it turned out, Gray was critical and disapproving (same as usual, really) but was also showing a measure of concern. 

“What’s going on with you lately?” she demanded. “You’ve been quiet, a lot less sociable, and now you show up to work -- like this?” She gestured Jane, then continued, “We have a very strict appearance we display, here. And this isn’t it.” 

Quiet, Jane replied, “I know. And I apologize if I’m bringing the label down at all. I was just...not feeling it, today.” 

Gray took that in, thoughtful, then began, “Let me be straight with you: you’re the best assistant I’ve had in a decade. You bring a lot of good to this company. But recently you’ve shown a very different side, and if it keeps up, I won’t have a choice. I’ll have to let you go.” 

Jane lifted her chin. “You told me once that I’m not allowed to have a personal life. I can kind of see what you meant, now,” she admitted, “but the thing is...my personal life has changed. A lot. You want to know what’s going on? Everyone I care about is moving on -- from me. So if I’m quiet and less sociable, it’s because there’s no one left for me to talk to. This is me...without a personal life to go home to.” 

And Gray seemed sympathetic to that, taking it in and replying -- gently, “I understand. I was more like you than you know, around your age.” 

Jane doubted that. 

“This industry can change people, for better or worse. I advise you to decide, and soon, if you really want to continue working at Donovan Decker,” Gray told her. “You’re valuable and appreciated, even if I don’t imply that very much. I’ll give you a few weeks to work out your personal issues, but in the meantime I still expect exemplary performance from you.” 

That was the easy part. Jane agreed, “That won’t be a problem. My work here is the one thing that hasn’t changed.” It was the one thing she could count on amidst all this turmoil. 

Nodding, Gray finished, “That’ll be all, Jane. Take care of yourself. To be frank, I’d hate to lose you.” 

That was one of very few compliments Jane had ever received from her boss, and -- put bluntly -- it felt good. There was a kind of relief to hearing those words, some of her waning vitality returning. 

“Oh,” Gray added, “and India complained about you sassing her today.” With a smirk, she said, “Well done.” 

Jane smiled. It was almost pathetic how much she soaked up that approval, but it felt like it’d been so long since she’d received any positive comments from those around her. Already she felt...better. 


	3. The Haircut

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing) 

* * *

* * *

* * *

Things calmed down a bit for Jane after that odd afternoon. Gray’s comment on Jane’s performance and concern, slight though it was, kicked it off, and her mood improved even more from what followed: an apology. 

From Eli. 

He waited until everyone was on their way home, the sun setting, then caught up to Jane as she was heading towards the subway, calling, “Wait, Jane! I want to talk to you.” 

She stopped, honestly perplexed. He wanted to talk? Eli Chandler, the guy who’d been ignoring her for the last three weeks? She’d thought, given everything, that he had come to dislike her. And how could she not, really? He’d turned on her so quickly, so easily, and it’d hurt so much… 

Yet she found herself unable to hate him for it. Instead, she stopped, willing to at least hear him out. 

There was a sad and hesitant air about him, and he shoved his hands in his pockets as he reached her, saying, “I’m sorry. You’re right, I did push you away, and I shouldn’t have. You didn’t deserve that…” He trailed off, frustrated. 

“That...cold shoulder?” she offered. 

Grim, he nodded. “That’d be it.” 

How pathetic was she, she mused, that an apology was all it took for her to relent? She visibly relaxed, sighing, thinking that he was just too cute to stay upset with -- especially when he had that kicked puppy look, brown eyes big and pouty. 

Shuffling, she replied quietly, “It’s alright, I guess. I was the silly one, assuming you’d just be okay with everything.” 

He agreed, “Yeah, that was...a little unreasonable. But can we just...start over? As friends?” 

The tentative hope in his voice was persuasive, and she found herself replying, “Yeah -- sure. I mean...right now, I could really use a friend.” 

Concerned, he checked, “What about Billy?” 

“What about him?” she returned, defensive. 

Alarmed at her tone, he replied, “I thought, you know, he was your best friend?” 

Glancing down, she corrected, “Was -- yeah. Now he’s all about Zoe. I’ve, um...been replaced.” And that hurt more than she’d ever admit. 

“Ouch,” he said, wincing. 

“Yeah.” With a sigh, she admitted, “I didn’t think our friendship was that fragile, but I guess he finally found someone he’d save over me.” 

Confused, Eli asked, “Someone he’d save over you? What do you mean?” 

She shook her head, explaining vaguely, “It’s...a stupid story. His ex challenged him with that whole ‘who would you save in a sinking canoe’ thing, me or her, and he didn’t answer so she cheated on him.” 

He looked surprised. “Ouch.” 

“Yeah. Know what the worst part is?” she prompted. At his shrug, she finished, “The guy she cheated on him with was my boyfriend -- now my ex. Billy caught them.” 

Eli’s eyes went huge, shocked. “That’s...wow.” 

Nodding, she said, “Yep. They even got together. And now you know why the complicated best friend situation was so complicated.” 

Wincing, he agreed, “Yeah, that’s pretty messed up.” 

With a shrug, she added, “Yeah. But then, us teenagers are kinda like that, so I’ve been told.” 

He flinched again, replying, “Look, I was wrong, okay? Can you just stop with all that?” 

“Wrong about what?” she pressed. 

“Wrong about...treating you like this,” he hedged. 

Not good enough. She returned, “Like what?” 

Awkward, he offered, “Like you’re...not mature. Because you are,” he told her. “I was wrong to just turn around and treat you like a child. It wasn’t fair to you. And I’m sorry.” 

What little indignation had been stubbornly remaining in her vanished. Relenting, she replied, “Apology accepted. Just...from now on, keep in mind that I’m more than my age. I’m...Jane,” she told him. 

He nodded. “Got it. But, um...what I said before stands. This--” he gestured between them. 

She waved her hands, halting him. “Don’t even bring it up, please. I’m...over it,” she said, even as she recognized the lie for what it was. 

Eli wasn’t exactly an easy one to just  _ get over. _ He was smart and fun and charming and...really, really gorgeous, she thought. It was hard to forget the way he’d kissed her, how his arms had felt around her. She’d been hungry for more, and even though weeks had passed since then, some of that hunger lingered still. 

She’d just have to get used to it, she supposed. It’d fade -- eventually. 

He nodded, agreeing, “Yeah, okay. Good. It’s...yeah.” 

Awkward, she could only nod, keeping her eyes off him. Then, after a moment of quiet, she broke the silence, saying, “W-well, anyway, I’m heading home.” 

“Oh -- yeah, see ya,” he said, giving her a wave. 

Waving back, she started towards the subway -- then turned back, calling, “Oh -- wait, Eli!” 

He stopped mid-stride, pivoting back. “Yeah?” 

She hurried over, opting to keep this a little more quiet, and began, “I might need you to start covering for me soon. Finals are next month,” she explained. 

Catching on, he nodded. “I got it. I’ll do what I can. But keep an eye on India, she’s probably going to have it in for you after today.” 

Jane waved her hand, flippant. “Oh, don’t even worry about her. She’s always had it in for me. Been trying to get me fired since I showed her up back in February.” 

Surprised, he asked, “You did what?” 

With a little smile, Jane explained, outlining the meeting and how she’d inadvertently laughed during India’s speech about how teenagers buy into trends, and how ultimately Jane had been ordered to get actual teenage feedback on the subject of fashion. 

“Wear who you are,” she finished, getting another flash of pride just recalling the event. 

Eli was smiling, clearly approving. “See,” he began, “this is what I liked about you, that perspective. Now I see why you’re so clicked in with teenagers.” 

She gave a dry laugh. “Believe it or not, I’m actually an outcast. Like none of the other students like me. At all,” she stressed. Glancing down and shrugging, she admitted, “Maybe that’s why I love working at Donovan Decker so much. I fit in here. Being valued and treated like an equal...I don’t get that at school. Which is funny, cause guess who’s probably going to be valedictorian next year,” she added, pointing at herself. 

Eli seemed surprised. “Really? Valedictorian?” 

“You don’t have to sound so doubtful,” she chided, offended. “I’m smart, you know.” 

Laughing, he explained, “No, I know that -- I’m just surprised because of your job. I wouldn’t have guessed you’d have the time and energy to keep up your grades.” 

Hedging, she agreed, “Yeah, there’s been a few...close calls.” Gesturing him closer, she added more quietly, “Don’t tell Gray, but to make it to midterms I kind of...had to borrow her car. She doesn’t know.” 

His eyes went huge. “You...borrowed my aunt’s car?” he repeated. “Without her permission?” 

She nodded. “Kind of had to,” she hinted. “If my grades slip, my counselor is going to rescind my internship and then…” She made an empty gesture. “There goes the best part of each of my days.” 

That had him smiling. “I admire your passion,” he said. “You can be pretty reckless, and you take a lot of risks, but I can tell it’s just because of how much you love what you do. I get it.” 

And that’s all it took. As soon as he said those words, everything was forgiven. Water under the bridge and all that; suddenly she didn’t care that he’d hurt her or that he’d forced a wedge between them. She just cared that she had a friend again, particularly such a brilliant guy; someone she could talk to with ease and levity. The painful parts of their relationship were officially behind her. 

She really did see them being great friends. They clicked, and until Eli, she’d never had that... _ ease _ with another person, especially not someone who shared her passion for fashion. Her ad Billy didn’t have that -- they loved each other and supported one another, but a lot of their interests clashed rather than meshed. 

But her and Eli aligned more. They’d kind of been like that since the beginning, she thought; she remembered the first time she’d seen a few patterns and sketches of his and admitted to herself that they were intriguing, at the very least. He’d had potential, and she cared more about what he could bring to Donovan Decker than she did about the job that’d almost been hers. 

They’d never been rivals in any capacity. Since the start, anytime they had to work together on a project, they’d helped and supported each other. Their opinions almost always aligned, and what few fashion disagreements they’d had were always done with after a simple test. There was simply no animosity there, and from what she’d seen of this industry, that was rare. Even India and Jeremy, for all that they’d been into each other, had remained on opposite sides of a battlefield. 

She found herself thinking back to when she and Eli met, those first few days working together, and a specific event came to mind -- one she still felt a little guilty about. 

She began, “Um, so, while we’re talking, there’s something I’ve been meaning to...apologize for.” 

Curious, he asked, “Yeah? What’s that?” 

Awkward, she continued, “So...back right after you got the job, you came to me and said something like you knew what I was thinking…” 

Catching on, he nodded, agreeing, “That I got the job because of my aunt.” 

“And I told you to prove it, prove that you didn’t,” she added. “Yeah. But the thing is...I totally lied. I just kind of went with what you were saying. I didn’t think Gray gave you the job just because you’re her nephew.” And she felt bad for implying it. 

Tilting his head, he checked, “You didn’t?” She shook her head; he asked, “Then why’d you say it?” 

She shrugged. “I was kind of bitter, still. I really wanted that job. But I never thought...I mean, by then I knew Gray pretty well. There’s no way she would’ve hired you, nephew or not, unless she saw something in you. And I did trust that,” she assured him. “She’d never put Donovan Decker at risk like that, taking on someone who’d just bring us down. So I knew...I knew you had something special. I just...hadn’t seen it yet, myself.” 

He absorbed that with a thoughtful nod. “Then you were just being mean for the sake of being mean,” he concluded. 

She winced. “Yeah, pretty much.” 

He gave a laugh, shaking his head. “Wow.” 

“Yeah. That’s why I wanted to apologize,” she explained. “So...I’m sorry about that.” 

Nodding, he worked out, “Then you never believed I hadn’t earned my place.” 

“Correct,” she confirmed. 

“You knew I got here on my own merit.” 

“Yes.” 

“You were just being difficult because you were jealous.” 

With a strained smile, she agreed, “Kinda, yeah.” 

Then, with a knowing look, he pressed, “You were jealous of a guy you’d just met for getting a job you couldn’t even apply for yet--”

“Oh, my god!” she cried, tossing her head back. Embarrassed, she floundered, rushing out, “Yeah, okay? I was jealous. Fully green. Here comes some guy who showed up on a  _ bike  _ of everything who I’d never even heard of before, and that’s saying something cause Gray was having me make a dozen calls a day to designers all over the  _ state _ looking for India’s replacement and I can’t begin to tell you how many interviews I was part of during that time, and you didn’t even have a resume which was my job by the way, and Gray called you herself and she  _ never _ does that, and Jeremy was in my ear saying how the job was mine and I was definitely going to get promoted so I was all--” she made an angry face “--and then surprise! You’re her  _ nephew _ and I didn’t think she’d just pick you for that, but what else what I supposed to think when there was no mention of you  _ anywhere _ in any of the job applications I’d been combing through--” 

“Jane, Jane!” he interrupted, laughing. “Alright, stop, I get it! Breathe before you pass out,” he directed. 

It was hard to reign in a spiel once it got going, but she managed, taking a slow breath before continuing in a much more calm manner. 

“The point is,” she told him, “yeah, I was jealous of you. But that doesn’t mean I ever doubted you. And I feel bad for ever pretending like I did. So...I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.” 

After all that, he looked pleased. He smiled. “Apology accepted.” 

She smiled back, relieved. And it was amazing how much her life brightened just from getting one painful roadblock out of the way. 

Then, looking her up and down, Eli began, “So...about all this…” 

Hanging her head, grinning, she said, “You’re trying really hard not to critique me right now, aren’t you?” 

Hedging, he offered, “It’s...not bad...?” 

“I’m going to choose to believe that’s honest,” she quipped. 

“It’s just really different, for you,” he told her. 

“That’s kind of what I was going for.” 

“Noted. But I’m worried about this,” he added, fluffing her hair. 

Shooing his hand away, she complained, “What’s wrong with my hair?” 

“Oh -- nothing, it looks fine...for someone who cut it herself…on a whim...without a mirror,” he intoned. 

Wincing, she checked, “Is it really that bad?” 

He sucked in a breath, face pinched, not answering, but his expression said it all: she was a tragedy. 

Her shoulders sank. “I really messed up, didn’t I?” she asked, hesitant to hear the answer. 

He bit his lips, visibly trying not to flinch, then suggested, “Tell you what: we’ll get you a haircut. The professional kind,” he added, firm. “It’s only half a fix, but it’s something.” 

She appreciated the offer, but… “I kind of don’t really have the money for that right now.” 

Confused, he checked, “Not even with the bonus check you got?” 

“I gave it to the drama teacher to fix the lights for the play,” she informed him with a wince. “It’s...poof. Gone,” she explained with a flippant wave. 

His brows lifted, surprised. “Oh. Okay.” He paused, thinking, and continued at length, “Then...it’s on me, I’ll handle it.” 

She blushed. “What? No!” she denied. “I got myself into this mess--” 

“And I want to help you out of it,” he cut in. “You had a bad day, that’s all. Let me help.” 

She couldn’t help her reaction, almost pouting. “It’s really that bad,” she concluded. Then, suddenly realizing how she looked, she tossed her head back, crying, “Ugh, what have I been doing?! I can’t be seen like this!” She looked pointedly down at her ensemble, feeling like she might have a meltdown. 

Clearly agreeing, Eli calmed her, saying, “Okay, here’s the plan: I’ll take you home, you change. Then we’ll go to a salon and get you fixed up. Sound good?” 

She inhaled deep, sighed. Then, nodding, she allowed, “Yeah. Sounds good. And...sorry about all this,” she told him. “I kind of had a breakdown, huh?” 

He inclined his head, retorting, “I honestly hadn’t noticed. This is just normal Jane,” he concluded. 

She smacked his arm, irritated, but she couldn’t help smiling, too. It felt good, getting things back to usual between them. She’d enjoyed hanging out with him, after all, and she  _ really _ missed hanging out in general. 

He chuckled at her flimsy slap, then led her towards his vehicle. And she was kind of surprised; when he first showed up here, he’d been using a bike. But he’d definitely upgraded, she found, getting a beautiful  [ dark blue Camaro ](https://cdn02.carsforsale.com/3/419786/11407562/906007949.jpg) . She gave a whistle when she saw it, impressed. 

“Not to be weird,” she commented, “but I just fell in love with your car.”

He laughed. “It has that effect. I barely lasted a second,” he informed her, fully serious. 

“I’m kind of disappointed, though,” she added as she got in the passenger-side door. 

Curious, he asked, “About what?” 

“I just really liked the bike. The whole penniless fashionista image looked good on you,” she told him. 

Chuckling, he shook his head. “Yeah? Well, too bad. This is my dream car,” he said, and she heard the affection in his voice. 

Smiling, she replied softly, “I’m glad your dreams are coming true.” 

He glanced at her, returning the smile. And she could guess what he was thinking: that they’d  _ both _ found their dreams at Donovan Decker. Neither of them would be giving it up anytime soon. 

She made a silent vow, then: to work with him, whatever it took, for both their sakes. For their joint careers. For their friendship, because she valued his presence in her life and his potential in the fashion world, and because she knew he’d do the same for her. 

Even if they couldn’t be together, she still wanted him in her life. 

* * *

Jane did what she could to lessen the embarrassment brought on by her impromptu haircut, changing into a find black-and-yellow ensemble and tying back what she could of her hair. She cleaned up her face and applied some deep red lipstick, feeling like she was washing away the last few weeks of pain and isolation and loneliness, replacing with something more stable and relaxed. 

It was freeing. 

Eli was waiting with Ben in the living room when she returned, explaining the plan for tonight. She caught the tail end of the conversation, Eli confirming that Jane would be back by eight. 

“That’s a little unrealistic,” she commented. “You really think we won’t have to wait at least an hour just to get the haircut?” 

“Yeah, I really think so,” he confirmed. “While you were changing I made an appointment.” 

Surprised, she checked, “You managed to get an appointment -- for today?” 

“Yeah. I have this amazing thing called influence,” he told her. 

She gave a soft laugh. “Point taken. Alright -- I’m ready.” 

Ben got up, crossed to Jane, and clapped his hands on her shoulders. “Jane,” he began, “I just want you to know…” 

He trailed off, so she leaned in, waiting. 

“...this is the worst haircut you’ve ever had,” he deadpanned. 

Irritated, she gave him a shove, walking around him. Eli was laughing, clearly in agreement, and her face flushed as she realized just how badly she’d ruined herself today. 

“Worse than that time you decided to go cowgirl,” Ben continued. 

“Of which I deleted all evidence, but thank you for reminding me,” she quipped. 

“What I mean,” he went on, “is that this is a good decision. Fix...that,” he said, pointing indistinctly at her head. 

“Ben...I love you, but shut up,” she said. 

Grinning, he lifted his hands in surrender. 

They left then, and Jane was relieved to have  _ that _ encounter over with. Once in the car and on their way, she asked, “So, where are we headed? You never said.” 

“Cost Cutters,” Eli answered. 

She gave him a shocked look. “Are you serious?” 

“Yeah,” he confirmed, glancing her way. “What, you think anywhere else had any openings?” 

She made a noise of horror, suddenly even  _ more _ scared. 

“It’ll be fine,” he soothed, giving her shoulder a pat. “I mean, could it get any worse?” 

“It can always get worse,” she returned. “Maybe I should just...wait it out. Get an appointment on my own...at...some other place.” 

Sympathetic, he replied, “Hey. It’s going to be okay. Trust me.” 

She sank back in her seat. Damn it, he was  _ way _ too cute to be pulling that ‘trust me’ stuff. 

She muttered, “Fine.” 

They ended up parking somewhere notably far away from the salon in question, for which she wasn’t entirely surprised. This was New York, after all. Parking was one of the few things they were short on. And though she was hesitant to enter a Cost Cutters, once the salon was in sight, she stopped dead, both relieved and exasperated. 

“Really?” she deadpanned at Eli. 

He shrugged, radiating innocence. 

The sign out front read  _ Hair One Salon. _ It was one of the biggest, finest salons in the city. He’d done it  _ again _ \-- fooling her so perfectly she hadn’t thought for a second that he was joking. 

“You’re a jerk,” she commented. 

Offended, he challenged, “Oh, so you  _ don’t _ want the haircut? And we came all the way here--” 

Tisking, she gave him a shove, walking past him; with a laugh, he followed, and they entered the building. It was getting late and the place was still packed, suggesting just how talented the stylists here were. 

Eli confirmed the appointment and they took their seats to wait. 

It was then that she felt a surge of appreciation. This place looked amazing, and she was already in love with the feel of it. A part of her regretted just chopping off her hair this morning, but given this was the result she was honestly...glad. She’d clearly needed a sudden, drastic change to force her life back on track. 

Considering she’d also gotten Eli to talk to her again -- and apologize, even -- she couldn’t feel too bad about it. 

To him, she said quietly, “Thank you for this. I appreciate it.” 

He gave her a smile. “You’re welcome, Jane.” 

She couldn’t help returning the smile, and she leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder. Once upon a time Billy would’ve been in Eli’s seat, and she couldn’t stop herself from reaching out the way she’d often done with her childhood best friend. She missed that connection too much. 

Eli looped an arm around her shoulders, giving her a brief squeeze. And though he drew back almost immediately, her sitting up away from him again, that little show of support fed her a great deal of strength. She almost felt ready to take on the world. 

When Jane’s name was called just a few minutes later, impressing her with the quick turn-around, she gave him a pat on the arm and took her seat in front of the mirror. 

Her stylist was Gabriella, and the tan-skinned female gave Jane a critical look, nodding to herself. She checked, “So...what happened? How did this...come to be?” She gestured Jane’s head. 

Wincing, Jane answered, “Had a...really bad day. This,” she explained, fluffing her hair, “was done with cloth shears.” 

“Ah,” Gabriella replied. “Well, no worries. We get that all the time,” she said under her breath. “I’ll have you looking like the queen you are in no time. Just relax, girlfriend.” 

And Jane relaxed, Gabriella’s confidence enticing a sense of assurity in her. Everything would be fine, just like Eli had told her. She should’ve trusted him. 

She would trust him from now on, she decided. 

* * *

Not even a full hour passed before Jane was turned to her reflection and shown the new cut. And it was gorgeous. 

Eli had spent the duration flipping through the stack of magazines at hand and replying to texts from some friends. He hadn’t noticed when the procedure was done until his attention had been called, and he looked up to find Jane staring at her reflection, her eyes watery. 

The new cut was lovely, taking her natural waves and framing her face in a mature and beautiful way. The longer locks had been trimmed, bringing most of it to about the same length and giving her an adorable “mature youth” look. She had bangs now, too, parted on the side and curling out of the way. As much as he’d liked her long, loose ebony locks, he found himself thinking this new style was even more enrapturing. She’d never been so radiant. 

She was breathtaking. 

He had to remind himself that she was a teenager before he gave in to his impulse and asked her out again, standing from his seat as she got up from her chair. She gave Gabriella a tight hug, visibly emotional, saying thank you and goodbye before heading his way. 

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he gave her a smile, commenting, “See? I told you everything would work out.” 

Her return smile was watery as she replied, “I know. Thank you, Eli.” 

Warmth suffused him. She was too precious sometimes, reinforcing why he’d been so interested in her before. She just always managed to make him feel drawn to her, wondering what was going on in her mind -- and, more recently, he found himself wanting to take care of her. He’d felt it first during their date, with her trapped and mortified under the table, then when he and Gray caught her backstage at the play, and he’d felt it again earlier when she’d started to panic over her terrible haircut. 

As soon as she had that desperate, what-do-I-do look, helping and protecting her wasn’t an option -- it was a need. 

Worse, he found her appreciation and thank-yous even  _ more _ alluring. She gave him that tentative, grateful smile, looking like she might cry of relief, and he just fell apart on the inside. 

Best to get some distance between them before he started saying things he shouldn’t, then. 

“Ready to go home?” he asked, striding towards the door without waiting for her confirmation. He stepped out and held the door for her to follow him, making a sweeping gesture towards the sidewalk as she went. 

She seemed nervous, brushing her hair back behind her ear with another muted “thank you” -- something he’d never seen her do before, he realized. She’d never once brushed her hair back when it was longer. Too bad, too; it was kind of adorable. 

They made small talk, mostly work-related, as he took her home. They caught up on their separate projects and he enquired about her home life, namely because he was concerned over the way she’d spoken about Billy earlier. 

Eyes downcast, she answered quietly, “Billy is...around. He’s hanging out with Zoe most of the time, which is kind of lonely but I  _ did _ tell him to, so…” 

Inclining his head, Eli said, “I’m...surprised. The way you talked about him, I thought the two of you were joined at the hip.” 

“We used to be,” she allowed. “But that’s mostly cause he didn’t want to be at his own house, so he stayed with me. We’ve been like that since Kindergarten. And a couple weeks ago I was home alone and it was spooky, so he was staying over every night. Now Ben’s back and Billy’s with Zoe almost every night, so there’s me...by myself.” 

She sounded so melancholy, he noted, feeling a pang of sympathy. She clearly wasn’t used to isolation and didn’t handle it well. And though a part of him wanted to help ease that for her, he couldn’t risk it. He still liked her and she clearly still liked him, and he couldn’t allow anything romantic to take root. 

She’d just have to deal with it. 

“I bet you he’d hang up on Zoe to help you out, though,” he told her. 

“That’s the thing -- I don’t want him to,” she replied. “I’ve had some time to think about things lately, and it occurred to me that...we were  _ too _ close, even for besties. We were more living one life than two, and that can’t be good in the long run. So this...this is good,” she concluded, though she sounded less than confident about that. 

“He’s getting on with his life, I’m getting on with mine,” she said more to herself than to Eli. “And that’s a good thing. Being stuck at the hip was fun, but in the end...it’d just make us both trip a lot. And I don’t want to get in the way of his life, going forward. I was depending on him too much, anyway. It wasn’t fair to him.” 

And now Eli felt worse about the way he’d pushed her away. He’d really thought that, given the information he’d had, she would’ve gotten together with Billy, that they were right for each other. Even knowing he’d had a girlfriend hadn’t diminished that belief; Eli had been so sure that Jane’s relationship with her friend would only strengthen, not weaken. Now...he wasn’t so confident about that. 

Guilt descended. He really, really shouldn’t have pushed her away. She’d obviously needed someone to support her and evidently Billy hadn’t been a good option for that lately. 

“Well,” he began at length, “I know I haven’t been all that reliable lately, but you can count on me. I won’t block you out again,” he assured her. “Promise.” 

She gave him a fragile smile. “Thanks, Eli. That...that helps,” she murmured. 

“And your hair looks great,” he added. “It really does.” Then, with more flourish, he said, “And that’s how you turn a bad day into a good day.” 

She chuckled. “Yeah...you’re right,” she returned, pleased. “I guess I just needed a change.” 

“It’s a positive one,” he said. “You actually look like a twenty-something for once.” 

She tisked, giving him a whap on the arm. “I always did,” she huffed. 

“No, you really didn’t,” he told her. 

“Liar. You just want me to feel like a kid.” 

“You  _ are _ a kid.” 

“Seventeen is  _ not _ ‘a kid’,” she retorted. 

“It is to me.” 

“Oh -- so then what you’re saying is you’re old,” she concluded. 

“Ouch.” 

“Got it. You’re super old. Thirty-three percent older than me,” she hinted. 

“When you put it like  _ that…” _ he returned, feigning offense. 

“Ha-ha,” she intoned. 

He laughed. 


	4. Starting Over

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing) 

* * *

* * *

* * *

“You look better,” Billy observed the next morning. He was there when Jane left her room, ready to head to school with Ben. 

She was surprised to see him but happy, too. Smiling, she said, “I feel better,” and came over to give him a hug. 

There was warmth in the embrace, relieving some of her lingering tension. He squeezed, suggesting that she hadn’t been the only one feeling the distance between them and disliking it. 

Fluffing her hair, he commented, “Love your hair. You look like you again, but...older. In a good way,” he added before she could get offended. 

She chuckled. “Thanks. Eli pulled a life-saver yesterday and--” 

“Eli?” he interrupted, surprised. “The guy who’s been ignoring you the last couple of weeks?” 

“Same one,” she confirmed. 

“Uh-huh,” he returned, confused. 

“Look, he apologized, and I apologized, and we reset things,” she told him. “We’re starting over -- as friends. And he helped me out. He got an appointment for me, for my hair. It’s professional,” she told Billy with a grin, fluffing it. 

“I can tell,” he replied; a lie. He couldn’t tell the difference between hair cut by a fire-axe and a delicate, trained hand if his life depended on it and she knew it. 

“So, no Zoe this morning?” she checked, doubtful. 

He hedged, “Ehh, yeah...the Beast died last night. Again. Usually I give her a ride to school, but…” 

“Ahh,” she returned, understanding. “Now _you_ need a ride.” 

“Yep,” he admitted. “And she offered to drive _me,_ but I thought, it’s been a while. I’d rather spend some time with my best friend.” 

That helped the threatening ache in her chest, and she smiled. “Well, I’m glad. I mean -- sorry the Beast died and all, but I’m glad.” 

“Me, too,” he agreed, looping his arm around her shoulders for another squeeze. 

Ben ushered them out of the house then, checking his watch; time was running out, he said. Confused, the teens went, wondering what the big deal was. Normally Ben was slow to get out, not because he didn’t like his job but because he was just not a morning person. It took him a while to get going. 

Along the way, Jane asked Billy about his study situation. Unsurprisingly, Zoe was helping him, and Jane asked if they could make it a study group. They were all in the same grade and shared multiple classes; it would be beneficial, overall. Billy said he’d ask, but he suspected Zoe would turn it down. 

She’d been treating the study sessions as mini dates as well, it seemed. And Jane understood. If she were still with Nick, she would’ve been doing the same thing. 

School went smoothly, for once. Neither Lulu nor Harper bothered her, and she suspected it was because of how directly she’d ignored them yesterday. Not that it mattered; if they tried to pull the same old bullying tricks again, she would just look past them and pretend they didn’t exist again. It’d worked before, and she was banking on it working again. 

Near the end of the day, during the break between her last two classes, Ben grabbed her, Billy, and Zoe (largely because Zoe was in the vicinity when he grabbed Billy). He dragged the three of them into his office and began, in a rush, explaining how Rita was starting to plan their wedding and he had no idea how to go about it. He needed help. 

Jane gave him a genuine smile, warmed. “At your disposal,” she declared. 

Zoe looked more hesitant, but offered, “I think I’m only here by proxy, but I’m willing. After finals,” she added, firm. 

“Same,” Billy agreed. “You’ve been more of a brother to me than my actual brother, so, yeah. Any way I can help.” 

Ben exhaled in a gush, relieved. “Okay, great. I’ll tell Rita she can count on you guys, too. After finals,” he repeated, giving the trio a gesture. 

Feeling good about the future, Jane came up and gave Ben a tight hug. “You’re going to make a great husband,” she told him. 

Under his breath, Billy added, “Eventually.” 

Ben gave him an exasperated look. “Come on,” he intoned. 

“What Billy means,” she interjected, “is you have to, you know...keep things cool. We know how much you love Rita, just keep in mind that...you don’t need to do everything at once.” 

Zoe, confused, checked, “Is that...common? You overdoing things?” 

Billy and Jane shared a wincing look, recalling the gorilla-gram and the tubs of candy hearts. 

Ben hedged, “A...little. A while back. It’s...not a big deal,” he told Zoe. 

“It was a huge disaster,” Billy informed her. 

“Rita got overwhelmed and walked away,” Jane added. 

“Thanks for reminding me,” Ben commented dryly. 

“Ooh, okay,” Zoe said, sympathetic. “Idea: you get an impulse to do something, let one of us know. Then we can give you a critique,” she suggested. 

Ben thought on that, inclined his head, and agreed, “Good idea.” 

“But,” Jane said, “she might like impulsive things…done subtly. So -- gorilla-gram, bad,” she told him. 

Billy continued, “Heart-shaped box of chocolates, good.” 

“But not every day,” Zoe finished. “One box of chocolates every few weeks, at most.” 

“Got it?” Jane checked. 

Ben looked a little confused, but he nodded. “Got it,” he confirmed. 

“Great. Good work, team,” she said to Billy and Zoe. 

Billy looked pleased. Zoe...smiled, giving Jane a genuine, friendly look. 

Outside, after the group parted, Zoe caught up with Jane, calling, “Wait a sec, Jane -- can we talk?” 

Jane paused, curious. “Yeah, what’s up?” 

“I just wanted to say...I’m sorry,” Zoe began. “At the beginning I really thought you didn’t like me. I thought you were trying to get between me and Billy.” 

With a laugh, Jane corrected, “It kind of happened in reverse. Billy’s been my best friend my whole life. You kind of came between us, but...not in a bad way.” 

Zoe looked relieved. “Then...you don’t hate me?” 

Surprised, Jane checked, “You thought I hated you?” Zoe nodded; she answered, “No, I don’t hate you. I never did. I was worried, for a while. Billy and me go back,” she paused, making a show of counting on her fingers, “twelve years. He’s not just my best friend, he’s like a brother to me. And...kind of my only friend, at least at school,” she added, wincing. 

“Oh. Wow,” Zoe commented, stunned. “I didn’t realize…” 

Shrugging, Jane offered, “Saying he’s my best friend is a little better than saying he’s my _only_ friend, but yeah. So I was kind of clinging for a while. I was scared he was going to totally ignore me because of you,” she admitted, “but in the end...I think this is good. For both of us.” 

Zoe took that in, nodding. “I think I got it. And...thanks. For hearing me out.” 

Smiling, Jane returned, “Thank you, too -- for coming into his world. He really needs some more positive faces.” 

Zoe smiled, too, then checked, “This...doesn’t really make us friends, though?” 

“Ehh...that’ll take some more work,” Jane allowed. “But it’s a good start.” 

Zoe accepted that. “So, I did mean to ask you something…” When Jane shrugged, waiting, she went on, “Have you...ever been with him? Like as a girlfriend?” 

“No,” Jane laughed, the question throwing her off. “I mean...I did kind of see him that way, once, but it passed. I think I was just lonely and hurt at the time, and Billy was the only guy in my life who’d never hurt me like that, so…” She trailed off, giving a little shrug. 

Nodding, Zoe replied, “Yeah, I get it. So, on that note, if you, I don’t know, need to do any girl-talk, I’d be willing to listen.” 

Jane’s smile was pained. “I don’t think I’ll be needing that anytime soon, but thanks.” 

Zoe looked concerned. “Why not?” 

Hesitant, Jane ventured, “There was a guy...two guys,” she corrected, “I liked...and both of them cheated on me. I kind of...don’t want to try again.” After all, they say that once is a coincidence, twice is a pattern. And the pattern so far said she just wasn’t made to be loved. 

Sympathy radiated off Zoe. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, giving Jane’s arm a soothing rub. “You don’t deserve that.” 

Eyes watering, Jane replied, “I didn’t think so, either, but then it happened twice in a row, so...what do I know?” 

“That’s just crap luck,” Zoe told her. “You’ll find someone better.” 

“Like Billy?” Jane checked. 

Zoe gave her a reluctant smile. “Like Billy,” she confirmed. 

Jane took a deep, steadying breath, then nodded. “Maybe, yeah. But right now I think...we should both be focusing on school. Just one more year,” she hinted. 

“So close, I can taste it,” Zoe quipped. 

They said their goodbyes then, excusing themselves so they could get to class. And already Jane was feeling better about her life. She’d officially gone from “nemeses” to “friendly” with Billy’s girlfriend, Ben was excited about his upcoming wedding, and maybe it was all the blows she’d been taking but Jane had never felt stronger. 

Her future actually felt bright for once. She could see where she was going, her dreams closer than ever. And, yeah, she’d had “crap luck” in love so far, but all it’d done was reset her focus. She was more determined than ever to get her perfect job as a fashion designer, and to Hell with romance. 

She was a career girl now. 

* * *

Time started passing quickly again, as if things were on fast-forward. Jane was rushed from school to work to study dates to home with barely a second to catch her breath in between. Donovan Decker received two separate yet equally important partnerships back-to-back at the same time, one with only a month to be perfected, and it couldn’t have been timed more poorly for Jane. 

With her focus struggling to remain on finals, she ended up relying on Eli almost daily to come up with excuses for her sudden disappearances and late turn-ins. The only bright side was that _everyone_ was working too hard to really notice, and Jane usually had everything on Gray’s schedule handled first and foremost, making her work as a designer secondary anyway. 

The ironic part of all this was when Eli covered for her by citing she was coming down with something -- and then she did. 

With only two days until finals. 

Ben made sure her teachers would be okay with her missing finals as long as she came in and did them another day, once her cold was over. Rita even checked on Jane in person, confirming that she was bedridden for the time being, backing up Ben. And between Ben and Eli, her missing work was forgiven as well. 

When she wasn’t miserable in bed, at turns moaning and groaning from how it felt like her entire body was the center of a battlefield, she at least tried to keep up with Gray’s schedule. Birdie was covering most of Jane’s duties, as it turned out, but there were some things Jane just did better, some things Birdie didn’t know and couldn’t handle. Jane made sure to get those at least _started_ when she could. 

Billy wanted to keep Jane company, but she told him not to -- at least not until finals were over. So he stayed away, though he kept in contact with her via texts and emails. She never lost track of schoolyard gossip, how many kids had been faking stomachaches to get out of tests, which of the students were doing well as opposed to those actively ditching. It was almost fun from a spectator’s point of view. 

Plus it gave her a little more time to study, not that she really could right then. Her focus was shoddy at best, most of what she read going right through her mind without sticking. She had to triple-check everything she did for Gray, making sure nothing was out of place. 

Then Eli stopped by one afternoon, checking on her. It was during school, Ben at work, so she had to drag herself out of bed to answer the door. 

As she swung open the door, he grinned -- then dropped it, looking her up and down. 

She could already see the critic in him activating. Not willing to hear it right then, she shut the door on him. There was a surprised laugh from the other side of the door, then another knock. 

Smiling to herself, she opened it again, warning with her pitiful vocal ability, “Not a word about my pajamas. They’re comfy and that’s all I care about right now.” 

He lifted a hand in surrender, the other behind his back. “On my honor,” he vowed. 

Mollified, she backed up, letting him in. “You can come in,” she began, her voice scratchy, “but don’t blame me if you get sick.” 

“I wasn’t planning on staying long anyway,” he returned, entering and shutting the door. “I just wanted to check on you, myself, see how you’re holding up.” 

She spread her arms, giving a grimace of a smile. “I can barely speak,” she began, “my eyes won’t stop producing boogers, I can’t breathe through my nose, and my whole body feels like I fell down the stairs. Like, six times. In a row. Satisfied?” 

He winced. “Ouch. Well, I have something that might make it better,” he offered, pulling his arm out from behind his back. 

He was holding a basket, she saw, tied in clear plastic with a shiny, dark blue bow on top. Inside, she saw, was a selection of candy -- mostly lollipops -- along with a card, two DVDs, and -- bolts of cloth? 

She managed a dry laugh at the sight, accepting the basket. Setting it down on the counter, she untied it and checked inside, first retrieving the card. It was a “get well” card, a cartoon dog with an ice pack on its head on the front cover. Inside, it read, “Get we--achoo! -- well soon, pup!” And nearly everyone at Donovan Decker had signed it with little notes. 

“Miss you, cutie! ♥ - Carter” 

“Rest up, we need you! - Birdie” 

“Take care of yourself. I won’t take it easy on you when you come back. - Gray” 

“To my ~~favorite nemesis~~ ~~least favorite assistant~~ ~~coworker~~ Gray’s watching me. Just don’t die. - India” 

And right in the center of the page: “Can’t wait for you to get back. It’s boring without you here. - Eli” 

Touched, she covered her mouth, eyes watering. And when she looked up, intending on giving a thank you, she found Eli had pulled a balloon out of nowhere. He offered it to her with a little smile, and she barked out a painful laugh, taking it. 

It was yellow with a sick emoji on it, and she immediately loved it. But this was too much for her, so unused to getting this much appreciation all at once. She’d just never had this many people care about her at once before. Honestly, this made her last birthday party feel small, because this wasn’t just a reason for everyone to get cake and drink. 

This was her entire company getting together to show that they cared. 

Feeling like she was about to cry, she coughed out, “Thank you.” 

He looked like he wanted to give her a hug but couldn’t -- for obvious reasons. 

Trying to lighten the mood, she croaked, “Is this gonna be a thing with you, the balloons?” 

He shrugged. “As long as they keep making you smile,” he answered. 

They absolutely would. 

Grinning, she said, “Thanks. For everything. But you should get out of here before you inhale too much of my contagion.” 

“That’s a disturbing phrase,” he noted dryly. 

“It was supposed to be. Go on,” she urged, giving him a nudge towards the door. 

Hands up, he relented, giving her a slight bow on the way out. “See you soon,” he said, and something about the certainty of those casual words made her feel better already. 

She would absolutely be coming back. Nothing and no one could pry her away from Donovan Decker. 

“I’ll be there,” she told him. 

He smiled as he turned away, heading back to his car. And, for just a moment, she watched him go, unintentionally admiring the man he was. Covering for her at work, then coming to check on her while she was sick -- with a delivery? He really was a fantastic guy, she thought. 

Well -- except for that whole “I was frustrated, so I had sex with another woman” thing. And, reminded of that, she shut the door and headed back inside, her mood souring a bit. She really did wish they could’ve had something, but -- in retrospect -- it was bound to fail, wasn’t it? His reaction when he’d learned the truth had proved just how right she was to not tell him. He would’ve broken off any relationship they’d had regardless of lover status the instant she told him the truth. 

And she understood why, now that she’d had some time to think on it. She was underage and he’d gotten totally blindsided by that. Being six years her elder, with her under eighteen, probably meant he’d been feeling guilty as Hell. Ultimately, though, she didn’t think her age was what did them in -- it was the lie. He felt betrayed and she couldn’t blame him. Whatever blossoming romance there’d been between them had been uprooted. 

Recognizing that, she found herself kind of relieved that they hadn’t gotten any further than a single date. There would’ve been no salvaging any sort of friendship if they’d gone anywhere serious, and she really valued him as a friend. 

Shutting down those thoughts before they could hurt too much, she checked her gift basket again. The cloth bolts were her immediate interest, finding them to be one rich pink, one soft baby blue, and one pure white, all polyester. Great for soft, little pieces. 

The stickers on the three read that each was eighteen inches wide, ten yards long. And her mind was already cutting them up, determining what she could do with them. Then, putting them aside, she took a look at the DVDs. 

Captain America and Thor. 

Ben was going to love those. 

* * *

Jane ended up taking a full week off work and out of school, and in the meantime Eli had to work on some designs solo. And he disliked it. 

He honestly missed having her around. She had great insights and perspective, and the two of them made an excellent team. Even though her duties were primarily as Gray’s assistant, making phone calls and deliveries and keeping Gray’s schedule running smoothly, and her schoolwork meant she didn’t have a great deal of time to actually work on designs lately, he’d still found her aid invaluable. 

More recently the most she could do was offer comments on her way to or from some task, but it’d still led him to some great ideas. Paired with Carter and India, too, the projects were going very well, but Eli still counted Jane as the biggest help to his process. 

He assumed that was largely because she was so young, her eyes fresh and mind creative -- like him, really. He was starting to view the pair of them as a power team, able to pull designs away from typical tropes into untread territory. 

Thus, he was infinitely glad when she strode into work one afternoon, looking immaculate, bright, and ready to tackle the world. There was a confidence in her stride today, he saw immediately, unlike her usual fast-paced rush. 

She didn’t seem to notice him as she headed straight for Gray’s office, a stack of folders in her arms. He returned to his task (measurements) with a smile. And when she strode past him a minute later, he called out to her. 

“You look happy,” he commented. 

She paused, pivoting, and smiled when she saw him. Shrugging, she offered, “Of course. I’m back -- finally.” Then, coming in closer, she added under her breath, “And my tests are going well. Cut through five today, just two left for tomorrow.” 

Nodding, he checked, “Think you aced them?” 

She nodded back, answering, “I really do. That bug sucked, but it gave me a little more time to study, so no loss, really.” 

Happy on her behalf, he said, “I’m glad.” 

“Me, too,” she agreed, backing off. “But now I have some catch-up to do, so…” 

He gestured her off. “Don’t let me keep you.” 

Spinning, she turned her back to him and headed off, a pep to her step. She really did love this place, he could see. He was still worried what might happen if her secret came to light, but for the time being he was glad he hadn’t told on her. 

She absolutely flourished in this company. 

The day passed more easily with Jane back, her energy and quick, efficient work ethic making the entire floor run more smoothly. She was more reliable than technology at this point, passing on messages, deliveries and documents between designers so well that she often appeared and vanished in a flash, and the recipient of her visit would simply have their load lightened just like that. 

As far as Eli was concerned, she was the MVP of Donovan Decker. Without her, this place wasn’t half so prolific. 

They had a fantastic team on the whole, of course. Eli was the young prodigy with controversial visions, Carter was the loving heart who just wanted everyone to look their best, India was the experienced perfectionist with grand dreams, and Gray was their talented, hard-working, critical guiding hand. With Jane, too, these differing pieces aligned together in a way they simply wouldn’t have been able to without her presence. 

She brought them together, both literally and figuratively. 

Time was ticking down, though. The following afternoon was their last day for the former of their two contracts, and just before Jane arrived for the day their median decided she wanted to see more color in their pieces. 

Gray responded with a cordial, “Of course,” but Eli could see her trying not to burst a vein. They could do this, yes, but it was bad form to come up with a change -- especially one so vague -- on the last day of a contract. 

Kind of like someone wanted them to fail. 

Thus began a rush, heads coming together as they pondered how to add splashes of color here and there to their set. When Jane arrived less than an hour later, she was immediately given the rundown and sent out to do some heavy lifting. She helped the designers much more directly then, bumping shoulders as she inserted herself into sketches, cuts, stitches and modifications. 

They ended up staying late, making sure everything was perfect. Carter, exhausted, was the first to leave, followed by Gray when her schedule demanded she could stay no longer. In the end, it was just Eli, Jane and India, rushing to complete their tasks. 

They got the set done just after ten, the designs sent off. And since the only thing left to do was cleaning, India immediately vanished, leaving the work to the already-overworked Jane and Eli. 

She groaned, examining the mass of threads, fabrics and buttons piled up on three separate tables, not to mention the scraps littered over the floors. 

Sympathetic, Eli told her, “Go home. I’ll deal with this.” 

She made a noise of disagreement. “No -- this isn’t your job.” 

“Not yours, either,” he pointed out. 

She inclined her head, allowing that. Then, getting to her feet, she declared, “It’ll go faster with two people. You work on that table,” she said, gesturing one, “and I’ll get started on the floor. Deal?” 

He couldn’t deny that she was right. “Deal,” he agreed. She got to work; concerned, he added, “But maybe take your shoes off first. That’s gotta be painful.” 

The sound she made then was one of misery. “They’re so pretty, though,” she muttered, extending a foot to admire her heels. 

“And they’ll be just as pretty _off_ your feet, just also much less painful,” he told her. 

She gave in then, sitting down to get them off, then got right back to deal with her task. But she complained as she went, “You’re too reasonable.” 

He chuckled. “Sorry.” 

On the bright side, they got the cleaning done. 

On the down side, it took them over an hour -- mainly because they found someone had left a glue gun plugged in and it’d leaked all over a table, glueing numerous buttons, ribbons and sewing supplies to the table. It’d taken time and effort to get it removed, salvaging as much as they could but still having to discard a great deal of it. 

But, finally, they were done. Jane was wincing with each step by now, even as she carried her heels instead of wearing them. And it was when she checked the time that another hiccup was brought to light. 

With a whine, she blurted, “It’s too late for the subway. I’ll have to take a cab.” She was already retrieving the number off her phone as she spoke, and Eli felt another pang of sympathy. 

He covered the screen with his hand, saying, “Don’t bother with a cab. I’ll take you home.” 

She pouted. “You should just go home. You need sleep, too.” 

“You need it more,” he told her. “And it’s faster this way, anyway.” 

Looking hesitant, she ventured, “You sure?” 

“Positive,” he confirmed. 

“Okay.” 

“Great. I just have to put some things away, I’ll be just a minute.” That said, he headed for his office, putting his sketchbooks away and getting his jacket on. Jane followed him absently, like she didn’t really have any active thoughts at this point, and keeled over on his sofa while he got his things together. 

When he turned around, jacket, keys and bookbag ready, he found her pitched over on the object, eyes closed, her heels dangling from two fingers. 

With a strangled laugh, he came over, saying gently, “Jane, come on. If you want to go home, you have to get up.” He shook her shoulder. 

She gave a weak hum in response. 

Well, that was unfair, he thought. She was being adorable. Didn’t she know he had a weakness for girls being cute? 

Crouching, he gave her another shake, pressing, “Come on. I want to go home, too.” 

With a groan, she murmured, “Five minutes.” 

Jesus. How pathetic was he, he wondered, that he folded so easily? But calling for five minutes like that reminded him just how hard she’d been working. And he gave in. 

Sighing, he relented. “I’ll give you ten,” he told her, “then we’re going.” 

Her response was an exhausted, “Deal.” 

She’d never even opened her eyes during that whole exchange, reinforcing just how tired she must be. And so, rising, he considered his options. He moved to the chair adjacent to the sofa, crossed his heel over his knee, and withdrew a sketchbook. Might as well at least take another look through some of his work, he decided. 

At first he was just examining them, but after a minute or two of flipping he took out a pencil and started editing, both writing and drawing notes. 

He failed to notice when he started to nod off. It was a slow change, taking him unaware. At one point he closed his eyes, and the next thing he knew, sunlight was pouring in through the glass windows, bathing the building in daylight. 

At first he was just confused. Why was he at work? Then, getting his bearings, he realized he’d fallen asleep sketching, his book was on the floor though he still had his pencil in hand -- and Jane was still on his sofa. She’d shifted during the night, curling up halfway on her stomach with an ankle and an arm dangling off the cushions. 

Oops. 

He got up quickly, alarmed, his back immediately complaining from his terrible choice of bed. Ben was going to be beside himself -- and, wait, did she still have school? It was Wednesday… 

Eli checked his phone, finding it was 7:43. A little panicked, he shook Jane awake, saying, “Jane, wake up! It’s morning. We fell asleep at work.” He started putting his things back in his bag as she slowly roused, continuing, “You need to call Ben -- and do you have school today?” 

She shook herself as she rose, a twist pulling a series of pops out of her spine. It took her a moment to catch on, blinking awake. 

Then horror descended. “Uh -- yeah,” she agreed, starting to check herself over. Finding her shoes on the floor, she sat down and got them on as she answered, “This is the last week of school. I’ll call Ben on the -- shit, I don’t know the Subway schedule this early.” 

“I’ll drive you -- let’s go,” he prompted, items assembled. He didn’t wait for a confirmation on her part, hauling her up by the arm the moment she had her shoes on and heading straight for his car. She had to diverge to snag her purse, and then she was there, rushing to his vehicle. She was already dialing Ben’s number. 

Ben was understandably upset, from what Eli heard of the conversation, but her explanation that she’d just fallen asleep from exhaustion seemed to soothe him, especially when she pointed out it would be summer vacation in just a few days and she wouldn’t have any more of these events for the entire season. 

He sounded _less_ soothed when she answered that Eli was driving her to school, then explained the situation. Eli expected he’d have to have a talk with Ben about this, assure him that nothing had happened between him and Jane. 

She hung up on Ben after a minute or so and started haphazardly refreshing her makeup and fixing her hair in the flip-down mirror. That caught Eli’s attention, wondering if she’d also need to change her clothes. But when he asked, she told him that she always wore different outfits for school and work; she hadn’t worn her current ensemble to school yesterday. 

Then he asked, “What about breakfast?” 

Hedging, she answered, “There’s snack machines at school. I’ll grab a couple bags of -- something.” 

He started to offer, “I could hit a drive-thru--” 

“We don’t have time for that,” she denied. 

“You’re already going to be late, at least get something to eat,” he pressed. 

“No matter where you go, the line for a drive-thru is going to be around the block this early,” she argued. “Literally don’t have time for that.” 

That was a point. He didn’t like it, but he relented, though he directed, “Fine, just make sure you’re not running on empty.” 

She gave a laugh. “Eli, I appreciate all this, I really do,” she told him with a look, “but you’re not my brother. Or my boyfriend,” she added more quietly. “I don’t need you to be all hyper-protective.” 

That...hurt, if he was honest. Had he really been so domineering? Yet she _did_ kind of need him to be; he was the only one at work who knew her secret. He was the only one who could help her in situations like these. Worse, the way she’d phrased that reminded him of what they’d _almost_ had -- and how it’d all fallen apart. 

It was so damn complicated, this relationship of theirs. 

Focusing on his driving, he replied, “Sorry -- you’re right. I’m worrying too much. I just don’t want you getting hurt or in trouble, that’s all.” 

That pulled a smile out of her, and she reached over to rub his arm. “Thanks. Crazy as this all is, I’m glad you’re here with me.” 

Mollified, he smiled back. Giving her a return pat to the shoulder, he said, “Now all we have to do is make sure you don’t get expelled three days from summer break.” 

She chuckled. And for all that he was so conflicted by the change in their relationship (coworkers, friends, and…?) that little bit of amusement from her was weirdly soothing. It assured him that, oddity aside, they really were close. 

No matter how he cut it, that was a good thing. 


	5. Broken

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing) 

* * *

* * *

* * *

When they arrived at school, the first thing Jane noticed was the sheer number of students lingering outside. There were groups here and there, hanging out, some playing sports and some just relaxing in the sunlight. Confused, she checked the time; 8:29. 

First period started at eight sharp. What was going on? 

Eli looked perplexed, too. He stopped on the opposite side of the street as the school, giving her a what-the-Hell kind of look. 

Taking out her phone, she texted Billy for information. He was quick to respond, thankfully, explaining that all first period classes had been canceled for the last week. 

Understanding dawned. To Eli, she said, “All first period classes were canceled. And I didn’t know that,” she added, annoyed, “because I was showing up early for my make-up tests. Great.” 

He laughed a kind of _I can’t believe this_ laugh. “I ran two red lights to get here,” he commented. 

“Which I _did_ tell you not to do,” she pointed out. 

He gave a hum of acknowledgement, then looked at her. “Want to hit a drive-thru?” 

She laughed. “You know what, I do. We’ve got,” she checked her phone again, “half an hour. There’s a place a couple minutes down the road, should be pretty open,” she offered. 

He gestured forward. “Point me,” he directed. 

She did so, and less than ten minutes later they were in the school parking lot -- outside the vehicle; Eli refused to allow open food containers in his dream car -- with coffees and a selection of fast food donuts. They were pitiful compared to Krispy Kreme, but did their job. 

And they talked as they ate, discussing the designs they’d finished last night and the next contract on their plate. At one point he grabbed a napkin and used it to brush a crumb off her chin, making her laugh. It was light and fun and _such_ a relief after the last few months. 

She missed being able to actually act her age. 

Then Nick approached, venturing, “Jane?” 

Her attention snapped around. “Oh -- Nick,” she returned. “Hey. Good morning.” 

“Good morning,” he replied, glancing between her and Eli. “Who’s this?” he asked her. 

“This is Eli,” she answered. “He’s a coworker at Donovan Decker. Eli, this is Nick, a...co-student,” she finished awkwardly. Then, baffled, she demanded, “Why isn’t there a word for that?” 

“There is,” Nick told her. “Schoolmate.” 

“That’s too weird.” 

Eli chuckled. 

“How’s your shoulder doing?” she asked Nick then. 

He gave a shrug. “Haven’t been testing it, but it doesn’t hurt anymore. I’m surprised you didn’t ask about my ankle.” 

“Why? It’s healed by now, right?” 

“Yeah, but it’s the more recent debilitating injury I’ve suffered.” 

“Ooh. Point,” she allowed. 

Eli looked lost, and Nick seemed to notice, asking him, “So -- coworker, right? Are you also an intern?” 

“No, I’m full-time salary,” Eli told him. 

“So you’re...her boss?” Nick worked out. 

“What? No,” she chuckled. 

Eli hedged, “I’m not actually sure how that levels out. I’m a designer,” he explained. “Jane’s an assistant to _my_ boss.” 

_An_ assistant -- as if there were more than one, she thought, amused. 

“Ah. What are you...doing here? With Jane?” Nick asked, visibly suspicious. 

She gave a soft groan, anticipating where this was going. 

“Short version,” Eli answered, “we were working late, passed out at work, and I drove her here because it was faster than getting a taxi.” 

Nick clearly doubted this, giving Jane a look that said _are you serious?_

She huffed. “It’s the truth, Nick,” she told him, firm. “And even if it wasn’t, it’s none of your business anyway.” 

“None of my business?” he echoed, disbelieving. “So, caring about you, that means nothing--” 

“It would -- if I actually believed that,” she returned. 

That visibly hurt him, but he shook it off, rallying. “Look -- let’s start over. I wanted to ask if you’d like to come hang with me, maybe catch a movie?” 

The very _mention_ of movies was distressing for her at this point. After the disaster that was Eli’s request and her getting passed up during yearly movie night with Billy, she kind of hated the idea of watching films with other people -- especially as a date. 

Feeling cold on the inside, she answered, “No, I don’t.” 

Nick was actually surprised, somehow, and she caught Eli notably looking away, awkward. 

Nick stumbled over his words, saying, “W-well, why not? It’s a -- I mean, it’s a good start, right?” 

“For anyone else, maybe,” she allowed. “But I don’t want to go on a date with you, Nick.” 

“It doesn’t have to be a date,” he tried. “Just, you know, a way to get to know each other.” 

This was getting painful. “Nick,” she intoned, “no.” 

“Oh, come on,” he complained, frustrated. “All I need is one more chance--” 

“First,” she interrupted sharply, “do _not_ ‘come on’ me. Second -- wow, really? One more chance? The ignorance--” She cut herself off, reordered her thoughts, and explained bluntly, “I already gave you a thousand chances. Just because you didn’t see them doesn’t mean it wasn’t happening.” 

“That’s different,” he defended. “I didn’t know--” 

“That is _exactly_ the point,” she snapped. “You didn’t know! I crushed on you for _eight years_ and you had no idea! We’ve been in so many classes together, and you still had to struggle to remember my name. You didn’t see me at all until I showed up in a pretty dress, driving a sports car -- and you know what, I don’t think I want to be with a guy like that.” 

Caught, he struggled for a second, then shot back, “Well -- so what? I see you _now,_ and I like you. Just let me have one more chance, Jane, please.” 

She actually felt herself tearing up -- not because she felt for him or on his behalf, but because she knew she’d have to break his heart to get him to stop. And she didn’t like causing pain. 

“A thousand and one?” she checked, quiet. Shaking her head, she told him, “I don’t have one more in me. Not for you. You were a waste of my time.” 

She was being brutal right now, she knew that. But she’d been hurt so much and had so little patience left. After the numerous blows she’d taken from those she’d cared about, she’d slowly built up a shield around her heart, and now she knew exactly what she wanted from life. 

And it wasn’t romance. 

He looked heartbroken, but at this point she couldn’t even offer any sympathy. She refused to keep coming back to him, enduring swing after swing from the guy she’d once viewed as a perfect Adonis. 

Tense, he replied, “Waste of time. Great to know. You know, I really cared about you. That wasn’t fake.” 

Giving a sad smile, she said, “And you’re already using past tense. Yeah. I can see exactly how much you cared about me. So much so you turned to another girl the instant you thought that maybe I was hanging around with another guy, without even waiting for an explanation.” 

That actually seemed to hurt him, his eyes glossing over. 

She finished, “You’re not my Prince Charming. I’m not your princess. Find someone else to rescue.” 

He stared at her for a long moment, silent. Then, with a glance at Eli and back to her, he nodded, backing off. 

“Fine, sure,” he allowed. “Just don’t call on me the next time you need a favor.” 

With a wry smile, she returned, “I never have.” 

That seemed to hit him hard, realizing then that it was true. She’d never asked him for help in anything -- except that one time she’d caught him at batting practice and joined in. And for all that he’d tried to help, she’d still missed every ball. 

Not only had he never helped her, but he’d failed when he tried. He really was the wrong one for her, she knew then. 

She’d wasted eight years of her life loving him -- for nothing. Net gain: zero. 

Visibly hurt, Nick pivoted and strode off, his steps even. And though it was kind of hypocritical at this point, she was glad to see that his ankle had, indeed, healed. She eased back to the car then, leaning against it with a sigh. 

Giving Eli a grimace, she said, “Sorry you had to see that.” 

He looked uncomfortable, replying, “I take it that was the guy? The one who cheated on you?” 

She gave a sad nod. “Yep. That’s Nick.” She couldn’t help looking after him, a pang in her chest reminding her of just how fully she’d liked him, once. Solemn, she added, “Strike one.” 

And here she was, standing right beside Strike Two. 

Well...at least she’d salvaged a friendship with one of her two strikes, she reasoned. And she wouldn’t be going up to another batting cage anytime soon, so she was actually weirdly content with things as they were. 

Hesitant, seeming to catch on to what she hadn't said, Eli checked, “Eight years, you said?” 

“Mm-hmm,” she confirmed. “At the time, a whole one-half of my life.” With a huff, she repeated, “A colossal waste of time.” 

Looking down, he asked, “Was I a colossal waste of time?” 

She exhaled harsh, caught a little off-guard. And...she really didn’t know. She’d tried not to think too hard about her crush on Eli, and even now resisted the urge to do so. She didn’t think she could handle examining it that close. 

She answered, “Uh...I don’t know. But hey, you were only my second crush, so…” 

Surprised, he echoed, “Second?” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

“Wow.” 

She chuckled. “Yeah. Pretty pathetic, huh?” she asked, glancing up at him. “Only two -- well, maybe three,” she hedged. “I kind of crushed on Jeremy, too, but that’s not...the same.” 

“Jeremy?” he repeated. “You crushed on Jeremy?” 

“More accurately, he crushed on me,” she returned. “But kinda, yeah.” 

“You never seemed into him, though,” he noted. 

She shrugged. “I wasn’t, really. And he never asked me out either, so it’s whatever.” Then, with a laugh, she realized aloud, “You know, I think that’s why he was so aggressive towards you at the start.” 

“Because he had a crush on you?” he checked. 

“Yep. I don’t think anyone wanted me to get India’s job more than he did,” she told him, “so you showing up and charming everyone and then getting the job...he was pretty pissed.” 

“And so were you,” he pointed out. 

She lifted a hand in surrender. “I concede to the truth.” 

Eli smiled. Then, clicking back, he began, “I wouldn’t say you’re pathetic. About the crush thing,” he clarified at her confused look. “I think when I was seventeen I’d had maybe four crushes.” Then, thoughtful, he started to count out, “Amy, Desiree, Lisa, Olivia...Jeanie. Five crushes,” he corrected. 

“Playboy,” she chided. 

He laughed. “I know, I’m terrible.” 

“Terribly good-looking,” she corrected. 

He shuffled, grinning. “Not _that_ good-looking,” he denied. 

“Tell that to your flock of admirers,” she quipped. 

“What flock?” he demanded, giving her a confused glance. 

“Right there -- look,” she prompted, gesturing the schoolyard. A little crowd of girls had gathered, and when Eli looked up, noticing them, they went crazy, giggling and grabbing one another. To him, she added, “They’re going to be bugging me all day, asking about you.” 

At that, he actually looked...tired. He gave her a conflicted expression, saying, “Don’t tell them anything, alright?” 

She nodded. “I got it.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Anytime.” Then, thoughtful, she said, “You know, I’ve never been the protector before. I kinda see why you’re so into it. Feels cool,” she concluded. 

“Careful,” he warned, “you might get addicted. You need to be _at least_ twenty to really handle it.” 

“Yeah? Well, I’ve been told I’ve very mature for my age. Could pass as a twenty-five-year-old.” 

“Whoever said that lied,” he deadpanned. 

“Mm, I don’t really think so.” 

“No, they did,” he insisted. 

She opened her mouth to reply but the bell rang then, cutting her off. Refocusing, she pushed away from the car. “Well, I gotta go. Thanks again, Eli,” she told him. 

He gave a little bow. “Whatever the little girl needs,” he teased. 

She shoved him. “Jerk,” she chided. 

He chuckled, then caught her arm. Handing her coffee to her, he added, “Forgot your drink.” 

“Right, thanks.” She waved with her two free fingers at him as she headed away, finding that the flock of females were definitely waiting for her and heaving a sigh as she realized how correct her prediction had been. 

She didn’t glance back at Eli, missing when he made to wave goodbye, then awkwardly dropped his hand. _She_ didn’t notice -- but the girls did. They _all_ waved back, tittering, giggling, flustered to a one. And, with a sigh, she conceded to her fate for the day. 

This was going to be a nightmare. 

* * *

Things were finally back on track, and -- as far as Jane was concerned -- better than ever. The last two days of school were filled with revelry so hectic and persistent that even _she_ was mostly left alone. Aside from getting pestered with questions about the “hot guy” who’d taken her to school, asking after his name and number and if he had any brothers, no one went out of their way to find her except Billy, Ben and Zoe. And they were her preferred trio. 

Now that he was spending his time hanging around _two_ girls, Billy actually managed to gain a reputation in those last days. Jane heard a stray comment from another kid at one point, the boy asking Billy with a lewd smirk if he’d be spending his summer vacation with “those two thots”. 

Billy sacked him and got sent home for the remainder of the year, which became an in-joke among their little crowd. Rita wasn’t quite as amused as the rest of them, warning Billy that he was still on thin ice with Judge Pope, but ultimately nothing came of it. 

Then came summer vacation and, by extension, summer jobs. Billy found he actually liked building things thanks to his work with the play, so he got a job interning at a carpenter’s shop, learning the trade. Zoe didn’t need to work but her fathers insisted she get some experience with it, so she started putting out applications; in a few weeks she was working as a barista at a higher-tier restaurant. Ben and Rita got jobs as well, Ben at a plumber’s shop and Rita at a call center. 

Jane remained at Donovan Decker, absolutely elated at being able to really stretch her wings there for the first time. For once she was never late, never missing, never needing Eli to cover for her, and all of her tasks for Gray were done practically before they could begin. And she loved it. 

At the beginning of the summer, things were lighthearted and fun, even in this professional establishment. They chopped right through their second contract, raising Donovan Decker’s name even higher and making serious marks in the fashion industry. And when they weren’t working, they were playing, many of the employees spending afternoons and evenings together at various businesses. 

One of Jane’s favorite events came from Carter when he suggested they go to a karaoke bar, and subsequently discovered that _none_ of them could sing. Another was when they got out a little early and Jane decided to wander, and Eli came with her. They ended up in a Bed, Bath & Beyond shop, and while she was pondering on whether or not to get a new pillow, he snuck up and beaned her with one. 

That started a pillow fight that ended up getting the two of them kicked out. But it was fun, and she loved it. She wouldn’t have changed anything about that night. 

A little later on she and Billy brought Zoe into the fold about her secret job, so Zoe wouldn’t be confused or misunderstanding in the future, and ended up spending some nights with the two of them and Eli. She even invited the lovebirds to an event at one point, which they kind of crashed but in a good way. 

Everything was looking up, skies bright, birds singing...right up until the dark cloud known as India drifted overhead again. 

Jane had been trying, honest to God. She’d been trying to get along with India, had been trying to bury the hatchet. But India just wouldn’t let bygones be bygones. Every time she had free time and Jane was within eyesight, India would come over and say or do something in classic India style, making Jane’s life that much harder. 

They were deep into their contract then, well over a month into it with less than a week to go, when India’s latest and most devastating visit came. 

She caught Jane at the design table with Eli, the two of them business-minded, working out possible changes to a lady’s coat. Hands gesturing and fingers outlining, they were discussing what had already been drawn on the fabric, the cuts they weren’t sure they’d make yet. 

India strode over, ignoring Jane outright. She just came up to Eli, all smiles, sliding a hand up his arm. Startled, his attention swiveled to her, twisting a little from her touch. 

“So,” she began, “I’ve been wondering something, if you’ll indulge me.” 

Cordial, he checked, “What’s that?” 

“Do you miss me?” she asked, sly. 

Um, what? Jane leaned around him to look at India, confused. 

He replied dryly, “I see you almost every day, India. We work together.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” she purred. 

Uncomfortable, he tried, “There’s no other way to mean it.” 

“That’s cold. I didn’t even leave an impression?” she demanded. 

_What the Hell is going on?_

He bit out, “Now really isn’t the time to talk about this, India.” 

“Fine, then I’ll cut to the chase,” she returned sharply. “Your place or mine?” 

Jane felt like she’d just sustained a blow to the head. Dots connected in her mind, facts and events lining up, and she realized in one swoop that _India_ was the woman Eli had slept with over two months ago -- the event that had sent their relationship plummeting. 

It was India. 

“Neither,” Eli told her, firm. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m working.” 

She tisked. “So cruel--” 

“India?” Jane interrupted, voice thick with disbelief. She wasn’t talking to the other woman, however; her eyes were on Eli. 

All innocence, India checked, “Yes?” 

Ignoring her, Jane demanded, “It was _India?”_

Uncomfortable, he admitted with difficulty, “Yeah...it was India.” 

Flustered, she blurted, “You slept with India, of all people--” 

India cut in, “Oh, you didn’t know? I’m sorry, I thought you knew already--” 

“No you freaking didn’t,” Jane snapped, turning her attention to the other woman. “You knew I didn’t know. That’s why you came here and said all this -- you wanted to hurt me. It’s what you’ve always wanted. You sought me out for this, and you used Eli to do it.” 

With a kind of blossoming realization, she said aloud, “You’re a monster.” 

Offended, India returned sharply, “Well, aren’t you rude today. I’ll be sure to let Gray know how you’re talking to your superiors.” 

“You know what? Go ahead,” Jane retorted. “I am so over this -- this war with you. You hate me, I get it. I got you fired, I know. But you know what, India? This hatred of yours, it was never mutual. I never hated you, not once.” Then, her voice starting to crack, she finished, “Until right now.” 

India didn’t seem to know what to say to that. For once, she had no quip, no insult readied, and she looked...almost sad. 

Then Jane confessed, “I don’t know what it is with you, why you feel the need to make everyone hate you. But congratulations, because you finally succeeded. Everyone hates you. I was the last one who didn’t. Whatever happens next...it’s up to you. I’m done trying.” 

India seemed stunned, her face saying she hadn’t thought of things that way before. Without a word, she backed off, leaving, her steps carrying her back to her new office. Jane turned back to the design board, looking down at it without seeing it. Her heart was breaking all over again, and it was a debilitating feeling. It was so much worse now than it was before, knowing exactly who Eli had taken to his bed -- because he’d been _frustrated_ with her. 

He’d been quiet this whole time, and now he moved back beside her, concerned. He put his hand on her shoulder, starting, “I’m s--” 

But the touch made her recoil, slapping his hand away in an uncharacteristically violent motion. She looked up at him but could only maintain the contact for a brief instant, hurting too bad to look at him any longer. 

“India,” she bit out, then shook her head. 

Clearly wracked with guilt, he tried, “Yeah -- and I regret every second, okay? It was impulsive and stupid, and you have every right to be pissed off about it--” 

“You know,” she interrupted, her voice shaky, “I’m trying to be...mature...about this, but it’s really hard.” She’d never wanted to hit someone so badly before in her life. “I thought I was...over this. I really did. But this is the first time it’s really...hurt.” 

He hung his head. “I’m sorry, Jane,” he told her, the words firm and sincere. 

It did nothing to ease her pain. She couldn’t help replying, “You know the funny thing? You really couldn’t have chosen someone who would’ve hurt me more.” 

He winced. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he said softly. 

“No -- but _she_ always did,” Jane pointed out, cold. “She used you to stick a bunch of needles in me. Because that’s what she does,” she added quietly, turning away. 

“Jane--” he called after her, dismayed. 

She didn’t turn back. Her steps carried her to the ladies’ room where she promptly took the furthest stall, sat down, and started crying. And this was a surprise, in its way; this whole time she hadn’t cried over him. This whole time she’d held it together, telling herself that things were fine. 

She’d merely been burying the truth, she realized now. She’d liked him so much and he’d turned on her so easily, like she was nothing. Nick’s similar betrayal had hurt too, but this one was worse, somehow. For the first time she actually felt heartbroken, like there was a fissure in her chest, tearing it right down the middle. 

It was agony. 

* * *

Eli returned to his office with an almost violent mood, aggravated and hurt and at a loss of how to proceed. He’d never been in a relationship like this one with Jane, had never hurt a girl like that, and he didn’t know what to do now. She clearly didn’t want his apologies, his reasons, his perspective -- none of it. 

He paced, trying to work out how to patch things up, because damn it, he liked her. She was a great friend and he didn’t want to lose her. He just didn’t know what else he could do, now. 

India came by soon after, giving the wall frame a rap with her knuckle for attention. 

He glanced up and away again, Jane’s words affecting him. _She used you...that’s what she does._ He didn’t want to see India right now. He couldn’t deal with her shit. 

“Get out of my office,” he bit out. 

Refusing, she asked, “Can we talk?” 

“No.” 

She sighed. “Eli, I just--” 

“I don’t care what you want,” he snapped. Gesturing the way Jane had gone, he stopped his pacing to confront India with sharp words. “You already cost me my relationship with her, now you’re costing me what remains of my friendship with her! I’ve had enough -- whatever problem you have with Jane, leave _me_ out of it!” 

India looked taken aback, but she rallied, saying, “Look, I’m sorry about that -- I didn’t mean to--” 

“I don’t believe you,” he interrupted. “From _day one_ you’ve been insulting and attacking Jane about everything. I feel stupid for not seeing it before -- and for giving you _any_ sympathy. You didn’t deserve it.” 

To his surprise, her eyes actually glossed over. She nodded, taking that in, and finished, “Fine. I only wanted to say I’m sorry. Tell Jane that for me.” 

Pain twisted in his chest. He replied flatly, “I don’t think she’s going to talk to me again. Thanks for that, by the way.” 

She swallowed, nodding, and stepped back, leaving his office at last. 

It wasn’t a relief. 

He threw himself in his chair, reclining and trying his best to relax. Checking the time said it wasn’t too long until he’d be off, which was good. That meant he wouldn’t have to spend too long in agony alongside Jane, and then he could go home and actually try to fix things. It wouldn’t be easy, he knew. 

After all, he couldn’t have chosen someone else who would’ve hurt her more, as she’d said. She wouldn’t be getting over that anytime soon. 

He’d just have to deal until then. 

* * *

Jane thought she’d been pretty quiet -- or, well, that no one cared enough to investigate the woman crying in the bathroom stall -- but after several minutes there was a knock at the door. 

Sniffling, she called out, “O-occupied!” 

Gray’s voice came through, “I’m aware. Come out here, Jane.” 

“No,” she returned, miserable. She was a damn mess, and she wasn’t about to stand in front of a woman she respected to be judged. Not here, not now -- especially when the subject of her tears was that woman’s own nephew. She had no idea how Gray would react to that tidbit. 

There was a sigh from the other side of the door, then, “Jane, please. We need to speak. And I locked the door, so we won’t be interrupted.” 

Why that worked, Jane couldn’t say, but something about that invitation made her get up and obey. She felt like crap and probably looked worse, unable to even look up when she had the door open. All she could see was Gray’s tight red dress and manicured nails in her usual hands-on-hips pose. 

With a tisk, those hands came her way, lifting her chin and brushing her bangs back. Though she was scared of what she’d see, she finally looked up. 

And...Gray wore a solemn expression, a measure of sympathy there in sight. She gave Jane’s cheek a comforting stroke, saying, “Broken heart?” 

Jane looked down again with a shaky nod, sniffling again. She wiped at her eyes with a handful of toilet paper. 

Sighing softly, Gray moved aside, guiding Jane in front of a mirror (she also noticed a small bag on the counter, mildly curious). She began, “I heard you had an encounter with India and Eli. Will you tell me what happened?” As she spoke, she opened the little purse, revealing that inside was various makeup items, selecting a few. 

She pulled Jane’s face towards her and started repairing the damage to the makeup as Jane explained between shaky breaths, “A-a while back...I went on a date w-with Eli...and it was great,” she admitted with a grimace. “I really liked him,” she admitted, dismayed. 

Gray seemed sad as she worked, cleaning up the mascara tear tracks down Jane’s cheeks. 

Jane went on, “Then he...he slept with India, a-and I knew...he told me he’d slept w-with someone, just not who...and today India showed up, a-and...and now I know…” And, God, it hurt. 

Tense yet still perfectly controlled, Gray said, “I see. Well...I’m going to give you some advice, the best one I can.” She was still working as she spoke, directing, “No matter who hurts you or why -- never let them know. Especially never let a _man_ know. Never let him know he’s worth your tears.” Hedging a little, she added, “As much as I’d love to say my nephew is the one exception, and regardless of whether or not he is, do _not_ let him know. Understand?” 

That...helped, actually. Jane gave a vague agreement -- she couldn’t nod right now, with Gray still fixing up her mascara. 

“Understood.” 

It wouldn’t be that easy, of course, and she knew that. It would take time to get over this. The truth was so, so much more painful than she’d thought it would be. Maybe it just hadn’t really been real until now, like she hadn’t really believed that Eli had slept around on her until India came into the picture and confirmed it. 

Again she found herself thinking back to Nick and when he’d cheated on her with Lulu, realizing now that as much as it’d aggravated her, it hadn’t hurt. Not really. Eight years she’d devoted to the image of Nick she’d constructed, and it still hadn’t been all that painful when it came crashing down. 

With misery, she now understood just how damn invested she’d been in Eli, how much more she’d wanted him than she’d wanted Nick. And this, too, she understood; she’d been into Nick because he was hot. 

She’d been into Eli because -- well, he was hot, too, but mainly she’d found him fun and loved his sense of style. And he’d noticed her right away, so different from how she’d drifted past Nick nearly every day for eight years and been ignored the entire time. Eli had been genuine from the beginning, so unbelievably cute with his big, brown eyes and ridiculous sense of humor. 

...She was going to miss him, she knew, but she couldn’t work with him again -- not for a while, anyway. Just the thought of talking to him, standing by him or across the table from him, working on the same costume with him...it all hurt. 

Gray had moved on to Jane’s lips by now, fixing the damage there, and Jane begged quietly, “Don’t assign me to work with him again.” 

Gray stopped, meeting her gaze, a warmth in her eyes that Jane had never seen before. That was when Jane knew that, tough facade aside, Gray actually cared about her, somewhere past that hard shell and impenetrable aura. 

Gray replied, “I won’t. Not until you tell me you think you can handle it again. In the meantime,” she ordered, “take care of yourself.” 

Appreciating that, Jane acted on impulse, stepping in and giving Gray a tight hug. And, after a stunned second, Gray returned it. 

“Thank you.” 


	6. Rekindling

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing) 

* * *

* * *

* * *

After everything that had happened -- and given she was already done with her official work -- Jane was allowed to leave early and go home. Eli noticed and tried to call out to her on the way out, but she pointedly ignored him, needing distance right then. She didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. 

She went home and spent the majority of that night with Billy and Zoe (she’d invited Billy and he’d asked to invite Zoe, and Jane wanted distractions so she was alright with it). They watched a bunch of TV and she spent the whole night ignoring her phone -- specifically ignoring the handful of texts she got from Eli. Then, after they left, she went to her room...had another cry when the memories came flooding back...and actually felt a lot better the next morning. 

She was actually surprised to recognize that she still hated India. Until yesterday she’d just...disliked India. The older woman had managed to be relatively respectable most of the time, if only when taken in moderation and when she was actually doing something good for the company. 

Now, though...now Jane understood. India wasn’t just angry about the whole firing incident, she was outright trying to ruin every aspect of Jane’s life. And that was when Jane decided she wasn’t going to allow this anymore. She’d been bullied more than enough. 

Taking a page out of Gray’s book, Jane opted to build a very particular shield around herself. No matter what India said or did, from now on Jane refused to react to any of it. In fact, she thought she could get away with outright ignoring India -- or at least cutting her off when she started getting bitchy -- just by being “Gray’s assistant”. 

Jane had a great, constant excuse for as long as she had this position: she always had somewhere else to be and something else to do, and it was always time-sensitive. No matter what bullshit India tried to pull, Jane figured she could always find a way out as long as she claimed “I’m busy”. 

On the flip side of things, she would have to figure out a way to deal with Eli, too. He was going to want to talk to her, work things out -- probably earn forgiveness, she thought. And...she didn’t. 

She didn’t want to forgive him. 

Worse, she found she couldn’t lie about that. She couldn’t say “it’s fine” or “I’m not upset”. It wasn’t in her to make those ruses. That was probably going to be the biggest hurdle, especially considering that she  _ would _ need to keep him as an ally if she wanted to stay with Donovan Decker. 

Besides, she still liked him. In a friendly way. She legitimately enjoyed hanging out with him, his sense of humor, the way he joked with her -- and especially how they worked together. His style was different from the crotetchy older designers’, fresh and innovative, and she liked to think it meshed with her own senses. 

They just saw things in a similar way, and she believed Donovan Decker benefitted from that. In the end, she wanted to keep him in her life. 

She just didn’t know how to do that after yesterday’s revelation -- namely just how much it’d actually hurt to lose him, and to India, of all people. She hadn’t realized how much it’d affected her until she’d known everything, as if it hadn’t quite been  _ real _ until then. 

She still didn’t quite understand how she felt about it, either. She kept teetering between hurt, disbelief, and betrayal -- all of which she thought was perfectly valid, given what’d happened. It felt ridiculous, in a way; she turned him down for  _ one _ date and he fell into bed with someone else. And it made her wonder...if he’d known that she was a virgin before he did it, would he not have? Would that have stopped him? 

She didn’t think she wanted to know the answer to that, actually. 

Now came the hard part: going to work, knowing he’d be there and probably wanting to talk. At this point Jane didn’t think she could get away with calling off, and certainly not with her shift starting in less than an hour, but it was a tempting thought. Avoiding this entirely...avoiding  _ Eli… _ the idea had merit. 

But, well, she wanted to keep her job, and he undoubtedly wanted to keep his, so there wasn’t really a reason to not show up. She’d have to face this sooner or later, and with Gray’s advice from yesterday, she thought...she could handle this. 

She...wasn’t exactly right. 

She couldn’t help looking around when she entered the building, a stack of folders under her arm. She didn’t see Eli or India, but with their roles they could be anywhere. Thus, straightening her back and reminding herself to not betray any pain or reluctance on her part, she headed in. 

Almost an hour went by before she started getting a bit worried. An hour with no notice of either Eli nor India? Were they off somewhere together? And -- oh, man, that hurt. Jane tried not to feel the ache, but it was a hard thing to ignore. And she found herself actually feeling...jealous. 

Recalling that she’d never checked Eli’s texts, she did so then, reading them. The first: 

[I’m sorry about everything. You’re right to be mad. I was stupid and I regret everything.] 

Well, that was...slightly better. Then the next: 

[Can we talk? In person. I don’t want this making things worse with us.] 

She...still didn’t have an answer for that one, now over twelve hours later. And, just to make her feel even more guilty, his next text -- a full half hour later -- was a simple: 

[Please?] 

_ Ouch. _ He’d really been trying, hadn’t he? And she’d been ignoring him all night. It was hard to regret that, given how much of a mess she’d been, but it still managed to scrape at her. 

He sent only one more text that night, two hours after the last: 

[Sorry. See you tomorrow?] 

God, the fact that he’d phrased that a question somehow hurt even worse. He’d been damn well trying to fix things and she’d been stubbornly refusing to let him. And it made her wonder...should she just -- let him? Their relationship was very clear, now, and as such she knew she had nothing to fear. 

They were friends, the same way she was friends with Billy, and at this point neither of them wanted anything more. She’d decided to focus on her job first and foremost, forsaking romance for the foreseeable future, and he’d chosen to take up a role closer to ‘big brother’ than anything. Considering she had a big brother just a few years older than him, she was actually pretty okay with it. It was a familiar feeling. 

It was  _ safe. _

But it didn’t stop her from feeling a  _ jolt _ when he finally arrived a little while later, at that point no longer expecting to see him today. He just walked in, looking all adorable like usual with his mass of curls and a hoodie, a circular box tied in a ribbon under his arm. 

Ah, she thought; he’d been out on an errand. That explained a lot. 

She was in the middle of making a delivery, herself, so she didn’t stop for long. She did, however, chide herself for feeling that  _ pang _ when she saw him.  _ Bad Jane, he’s not good for you and you don’t want him anyway. _

She was busy enough that she didn’t see it when he paused, too, spotting her, though she  _ did _ notice his path carry him into Gray’s office. When he left a minute later, he didn’t have the package anymore; Gray was the recipient, then? Considering Gray was just about constantly getting things delivered to her, Jane wasn’t really surprised. 

What  _ did _ surprise her was the fact that Eli didn’t seek her out. He clearly had work to do, and so did she, for that matter, yet it felt odd to her that he didn’t come right for her once his task was done. He’d seemed so eager to talk to her last night... 

But, she supposed, she  _ had _ ignored him all night. He was probably just giving her the space she clearly needed. So she left it alone, deciding that if they had a chat later, they had a chat -- later. Right now she just kept focused on her work. 

Their paths didn’t cross until lunch. She actually spotted him at a table on her way out, and made a split-second decision to not go to the food cart just outside. Cowardly, yes, but she didn’t want to face him just yet. 

“Jane?” 

_ Damn it. _ She hadn’t quite made it to the street before she heard her name, and she had just a second there to decide if she wanted to stop and talk or flag down a taxi for a quick escape. 

Damn, but the escape option was tempting. 

Yet, a foreign kind of strength seemed to suffuse her, and she found herself turning back. From the look of him, Eli had already had his lunch and had just been waiting for her. 

The look he gave her was subdued as he ventured, “Can we talk?” 

The very idea of talking caused the ache in her chest to bloom back to life, but at the same time she felt...sympathy. He clearly felt bad and she’d honestly never seen that much raw sincerity in a person before. Nick certainly hadn’t had that look when Jane had confronted him at school after he’d cheated on her. And that actually made her a bit more unbalanced; she didn’t know what to expect at this point. But, well...she wasn’t mad anymore. 

She was just...hurt. 

_ Never let him see how much he hurt you, _ Gray had advised. 

_ I’ll try, _ Jane thought now. 

A little awkward and feeling caught, she offered, “Uh...sure?” She glanced at the food cart, weighing her options, and decided she’d rather be anywhere but here -- at Donovan Decker -- for this. Gesturing vaguely behind her, she said, “I was going to go to the...the place...down the street.” 

He nodded. “So, do you mind if I...tag along?” 

“I mean...if you have the time, sure,” she hedged. That said, she started off, deciding to hoof it, and Eli fell into step beside her. 

He began, “Did you, uh...did you get my texts?” 

“Yeah,” she answered, “I did. I just didn’t...I didn’t check them until a little while ago.” 

He accepted that in silence, then said, “I am...really sorry that I hurt you. Really,” he pressed. 

That managed to make the pain worse, actually, but she fought off a wince, replying flippantly, “Oh it’s...it’s not really that big a deal. I was...exaggerating.” 

Doubtful, he checked, “So saying that stuff about India...that was exaggerating?” 

“Well, no, India’s still a horror story in heels,” Jane told him, “it’s just...not as bad as I made it sound. I’m okay,” she assured him. 

“Really?” he deadpanned. “You seemed really distraught.” 

“I mean, I was,” she agreed, “it’s just that...I had all night to think about it. I overreacted,” she lied -- right to his face. 

Ugh, that felt terrible. 

Clearly not believing her, he said, “I saw you crying, Jane.” 

He had?! Embarrassed, she blurted, “W-well, yeah -- that’s why I said I overreacted.” And, muscling through a whole new swell of pain, she bit out, “I was just all frustrated and mad at India, mostly.” 

Hesitant, he replied, “Even so, knowing I made you cry, it’s--” 

“You didn’t make me cry,” she denied immediately. He looked doubtful; she allowed, “Well sure, kind of, but it wasn’t  _ over _ you, anyway. You’re not important enough.” 

She regretted those words instantly, even as she recognized her own need in saying them, but what was worse was his  _ face _ right then. He was...offended, yes, and hurt, but she also caught betrayal in the way he looked at her. And she could guess why: she’d never been brutal like this before. She’d never spoken intentionally hurtful things -- or not to  _ him, _ anyway. 

To be honest, she felt kind of mad at herself for even saying that, but… 

_ Never let him see. _

Maybe she was being too defensive of herself, but she didn’t want him to see the truth, how devastated she’d been and how hard it’d been to recover. If that meant lying, then she’d lie. 

Still, she heard herself hurrying, “That’s not what I meant. I don’t know how to...say this. We’re not...that...close,” she tried. “But if I’m going to be honest with you, then I’m glad things ended before they got started. I’d rather not date a guy like you.” 

Now visibly hurt, he demanded, “A guy like me?” 

Reminded of Nick, she answered softly, “Yeah -- the kind who turns around and sleeps with someone else just because he’s  _ frustrated.” _ That was a little extra mean of her, sure, but she still kind of wanted to hurt him back. 

It worked. There was an agony visible in him then, and he said, “Jane, that’s not fair.” 

“Neither is what you did,” she told him. He glanced away, ashamed; she continued, “I never...would’ve done something like that to you. Sleeping around...it’s not a trait I want in a boyfriend anyway. So for what it’s worth, thank you -- for showing me so quickly that I don’t want to date you...that you’re not worth it.” 

That was the most brutal she’s ever been, she thought, and Eli’s expression said he agreed with her. 

He looked crushed, honestly, and he bit out, “I told you -- I regret it. I wish I hadn’t--” he cut himself off, frustrated. 

“Doesn’t change the fact that you did,” she replied quietly. 

“And I guess you’re just not the forgiving type,” he noted, the words almost accusatory. 

“Only because you’re not the trustworthy type,” she returned. 

Aggravated, he snapped, “You don’t get this at all, do you? You have no idea how I was feeling--” 

“I wonder if that’s because you didn’t tell me?” she retorted sharply. “But it doesn’t matter anyway -- it’s a good thing you betrayed my trust when you did. I’m glad I never had time to get invested in you.” 

“Look -- I only ended up in bed with India because we were both feeling abandoned,” he informed her. 

That brought Jane up short. “What?” she demanded. “I wasn’t abandoning you -- and who abandoned India, anyway? She’s never dated anyone.” 

“Abandoned, rejected -- same thing,” he intoned. “I felt like you were pushing me away because I was too young for you -- joke’s on me, right?” he hissed. 

Frustrated, she shot back, “Yeah -- my sincerest apologies, Eli! Sorry I had to juggle two lives and had to take a rain check--” 

“It wasn’t just that,” he snapped, “it was the whole...keeping secrets thing!” He gave a broad gesture at all of her. 

“Right, cause knowing each other for a couple weeks, that’s when we should reveal all our secrets, right?!” she demanded, bristling. 

“I -- no,” he tried, caught, “but you kept pulling back and--” 

“Look, Eli,” she interrupted, aggravated, lifting her hands for patience, “this isn’t -- I’m trying to put it behind me. It’s hard,” she admitted, “but I’m trying. So can we just  _ not _ talk about it anymore?” 

He glanced away, chewing on his lip, then began, “Honestly, Jane, I think talking is the only way either of us is going to get over this.” 

She sighed, begrudgingly admitting he was probably right. Gesturing him, she replied, “Alright, fine. Then...then explain what you meant about India feeling abandoned. Who abandoned her?” 

“Jeremy,” he answered. “She was hurt by Jeremy taking off the way he did, and the fact that he called  _ you _ and not  _ her.” _

Just like that, some scattered puzzle pieces snapped into place, and Jane was hit with an incredible, debilitating sense of nostalgia. 

Twice. 

_ Twice _ her not-quite-boyfriend cheated on her with the girlfriend of her guy friend -- because they were feeling  _ neglected. _

Aloud, she heard herself murmur, “That...it all makes sense now.” 

That seemed to confuse Eli, and he said, “What?” 

Pained, she bit out, “This is exactly what happened with Nick, all over again.” 

She could see it as Eli realized what she was saying, connecting the dots. He began, “Jane, that’s not--” 

“I have to ask,” she interrupted, hand lifting to halt him, “is this a...a ‘me’ thing? Do I just attract these kinds of people? Or is it a ‘them’ thing? Is it a…’pretty’ thing? Is it true -- you can’t trust the pretty ones?” she asked, accusatory. 

He didn’t seem to have an answer for that, struggling with words for a moment. Then, a kind of desperation to him, he started, “I don’t think it’s either. This was luck. Bad luck, but...still luck.” 

“Mm. Lucky me,” she commented. Shaking herself, she reordered her thoughts, then said, “I’ve changed my mind. You, uh...you’re uninvited.” 

He tilted his head, form slumping with disappointment. “Jane--” he began. 

“No,” she denied immediately. “I need to think things through. For now, just...don’t talk to me.” Already turning away, she muttered, “I’ll let you know when I’ve...figured things out.” 

She heard him sigh, then murmur a goodbye. Good enough, she decided. Her appetite had taken a hit from all that, too, but she was determined to at least take care of herself -- since it was growing increasingly clear that no one else was going to expend the effort. She would damn well eat  _ something. _

And then she got to go back to work and figure out what to do about Eli. Again. 

* * *

That talk had been a disaster. And here Eli had been trying to be patient, give Jane space and time, wait for her to seem more stable before going to talk to her. If he was honest, it’d been a relief to have her accept his request to join her for lunch; he’d felt that it was just the window he needed to smooth this thing over. 

Instead, it’d gone so far sideways it no longer resembled the world he knew. That was a surprise, on top of everything else, too -- because it meant Jane had somehow become an important, valuable, stable part of his world. Without her in his life he was going to have to reorient himself again. 

It wasn’t the greatest tragedy of his life, not by far, but he still lamented the loss. Don’t talk to her? He could do that; she wasn’t his supply of oxygen or anything corny like that. 

But he’d still miss her. 

And to think, not a few hours earlier Gray had actually encouraged him to talk to Jane, to get through this. Granted, her reasoning was that he and Jane were two of the most brilliant fashion minds in this company of brilliant fashion minds and they’d created some truly fantastic pieces together, so of course Gray wanted the two of them to remain amicable. He was still suspicious that Gray had harbored an ulterior motive with her order. 

Damn it, he was going to miss hanging out with Jane. He’d put a lot of effort into keeping this friendship alive and stable, had really loved the time they spent together, and now he had to basically ignore her for the foreseeable future. And he  _ did _ have to; aside from the fact that he’d been raised to be respectful in general, and thus giving people space when they asked for it, if he tried to cling to this relationship Jane was just going to end up pushing him further away. 

The more he tried to stay close, the more she’d reject him. He knew this without even having to test it. 

_ Sigh. _ No, this wasn’t the greatest tragedy of his life, but it was a tragedy nonetheless. He was going to miss her delayed laughs when he made admittedly bad jokes, how they were so in sync when they worked, how she’d sometimes literally take a design and turn it sideways to change his perspective on it. 

Plus, well...if he was honest...she  _ was _ quite beautiful and he loved the perfume she wore. She was a lovely sight whenever he noticed her and her perfume had a kind of relaxing effect on him. He worked better when she was around, period. 

He just also had to constantly remind himself that she was a  _ teenager. _

He was  _ pretty _ sure he’d successfully put to bed the desire he’d once felt for her, but the general like he had for her? That was much harder to withhold. She was cute and warm and the few times they’d shared a hug it’d felt perfect. And, he lamented, now he’d have to force some distance between them, at least for a while. 

_ It’s not the greatest tragedy, _ he reminded himself. He was young, she was young; even if neither of them came back from this they’d still both move on. It’d be sad, he admitted; he’d miss her, but they’d both be fine. All he had to do now was be patient and do his job. 

Easy. 

* * *

Jane was actually surprised to find Eli had taken her directive seriously. A part of her hadn’t expected him to listen -- maybe because Nick hadn’t, really, and he was the only reference she had for all this -- but Eli just gave her a glance when she came back from lunch, then went back to his work. 

Huh. She’d half-expected to have to reiterate her position and fight him on it. The fact that he just did as she asked was surprising -- in a good way. Given he’d so easily turned around and slept with someone else when their relationship was still in its infancy, she’d honestly thought he wouldn’t be that trustworthy. 

She appreciated that. 

It hurt to see him, of course. She wasn’t at all surprised by  _ that _ at this point. But she pushed it aside to do her job; luckily Gray had a slew of tasks ready at every given moment and they were the perfect distractions. Jane was sent all over the building and to various other businesses across the city over the course of the day, giving her plenty of time to think. 

There wasn’t much progress on that front. She’d been wrestling with her feelings all during lunch and getting back to work hadn’t helped matters. What she’d concluded amounted to what she’d already known: she liked Eli. Despite telling herself otherwise for the last  _ month, _ she still liked him. A part of her still wanted him and ached for him. She wasn’t sure that would ever change at this point, but she knew she wasn’t about to give him another chance. 

After today’s revelation she was that much more determined, as well. Having her scant two relationships end exactly the same way (sort of) was building up a pattern, and that pattern said “pain”. Maybe Eli was right and it had nothing to do with her or the guys she’d fallen for, maybe it really was just a span of bad luck, but she couldn’t risk it happening a third time -- let alone with the same guy. 

Ultimately what her brainstorming amounted to was a single question: should she still try to maintain a friendship with Eli? Despite downgrading him from “potential boyfriend” to “work buddy” he’d still managed to hurt her -- twice. Was he even worth the effort at this point? She wasn’t sure, and worse, she really did like him and his ridiculous jokes and his  _ goddamn eyes. _ She wanted to keep him around. 

She just wasn’t sure it was safe for her heart to do so. Spending the day thinking on it didn’t help her reach a decision, either. It was a freaking tragedy at this point. She was always keeping an eye out for India all day, too, and when it ended with no India in sight, she asked Gray about the other woman. 

Gray explained that they’d needed someone to work out a contract with two other industries for a triad contract and had sent India to represent Donovan Decker. The meeting had to be in person and in Portugal, so India had boarded a flight this afternoon and, as such, had skipped the day to prepare. 

Sweet. From the sound of it, Jane wouldn’t have to deal with India for at least a few more days, and then they’d have another project to work on. It sounded big and beautiful already, a joint contract with another label and a fashion magazine to boost all three. 

The theme: “Grand”. Everything was to be as big and colorful and loud as possible without stepping over the line into “ridiculous”. What really got Jane’s attention was the addition that they’d be working with new, uncommon, and different fabrics than usual. It was hinted that a lot of gradients were the core of this set. It sounded breathtaking, and the very idea helped her refocus. 

Eli and her confused, lingering feelings could wait. She had suits and dresses to help craft. 

* * *

It took a few days for the contract to get hashed out, and the announcement once it was ready said the deadline would be August 3rd -- before school starts, thankfully. August 4th would be a gala and fashion show and everyone was expected to attend, Gray said. 

Then the work began. 

Jane was barely ten minutes into her duties when she was interrupted -- by India. 

“Jane,” India began. 

_ Great. _

Jane couldn’t mask her exasperation as she said, “What do you want, India?” 

“A truce,” India answered, folding her arms. 

Jane gave her a look. “A truce only works when both sides were at war. I was never at war with you,” she pointed out. 

Annoyed, India replied, “Call it what you want. I’m letting you know that I’m not targeting you anymore.” 

“Anymore,” Jane echoed with a dry laugh. “You really were trying to get me fired, weren’t you?” 

“You got me fired,” India returned. 

“No -- you got  _ yourself _ fired,” Jane shot back. When India made to argue, she soldiered on, snapping, “You got yourself fired by being suspicious and malicious all the time. Who else were we supposed to think was trying to bring down the company but the woman whose actions were always trying to bring down the company?” 

“Never the company,” India argued. “Gray and you and others who kept standing in my way -- yes. But never the company.” 

“Sure didn’t feel like it,” Jane told her. “But whatever. I don’t care anymore.” 

Shaking her head, India said, “Look, the point is my grudge is over. I wanted you to know that so you won’t go running to Gray, telling lies about me.” 

“Wow. That doesn’t sound anything like an apology,” Jane noted. 

“It’s not. Rule one: never apologize,” India told her. “Doesn’t matter what you did. Stick to your guns. Remember that.” 

“I’m going to refuse that one,” Jane returned. “I’d rather apologize when I’m in the wrong and salvage friendships than not and get slowly isolated. Like you,” she added, brutal. 

“Shows what you know about me,” India shot back. “I’m not isolated -- I’ve chosen my friends carefully. That’s the difference between us: I forged the alliances I needed and I forego the rest. They’re unnecessary.” 

“Forgive me for believing every friendship is valuable, even the casual ones,” Jane said, even as she recognized the hypocrisy of her words. She’d turned on Eli damn fast, hadn’t she? “But, as I said: I don’t care anymore. Now I have work to do.” She shouldered past India to continue her deliveries. 

India called after her, “Just think about it before you deny it. You might find it useful -- especially in this industry.” 

Jane tuned her out. But a seed had been planted, and as she continued her work, her mind kept returning to Eli and the way she’d left him hanging. It’d been four days and he’d been totally respectful the whole time, never seeking her out if it wasn’t work-related and being pleasant in the meanwhile. He’d done everything she asked and, if she was honest with herself, it was starting to get heavy. 

Thus, she made a choice: talk to him. 

He was working in his office when she had the time to do so, reclined in his chair with his sketchbook on his thigh, looking back and forth between the book and his laptop. When Jane approached, he glanced up, and the immediate surprise on his face successfully made her feel worse. 

She gave the doorframe a token rap with her knuckle, then asked, “Do you have a minute?” 

Sitting up, he folded the book closed, agreeing, “Yeah, sure. What’s up?” 

Hesitating, she came in and took a seat on the sofa. Then, struggling for voice, she admitted, “I wanted to apologize to you.” 

His surprise increased, brows lifting. “You...wanted to apologize...to me?” he checked, doubtful. 

“Well...yeah,” she offered. “I feel like I haven’t been fair to you.” 

With a soft laugh, he replied, “I think you’ve been as fair as you had to.” 

Shrugging, she retorted, “Well, how would I know? I’ve had t-- nevermind,” she cut herself off. “The point is it just hit me how much I keep just...piling crap on you. And you don’t deserve that.” 

He inclined his head. “I  _ did _ do something pretty crappy,” he pointed out. 

“Yeah, and it was then,” she tried. “This is now, and the ‘me’ now doesn’t want that...that cloud. So...I guess...this is me saying I’m sorry and I forgive you.” 

He actually did a double-take on that one. “Really?” he pressed, stunned. 

She shrugged again. “I’ve had time to think about it, and I get it now.” And she did. He’d needed some kind of outlet for his feelings and India had needed an outlet for  _ her _ feelings. From the sound of it, they’d just kind of fallen together. 

It still wasn’t okay, and she was still hurt just thinking about it, but she understood it. And that understanding opened the door to forgiveness, so she’d given it. 

“What it comes down to,” she told him, “is that...I’d rather have you as a friend than not at all. So can we maybe...start over? Fresh slate?” 

He gave her a smile. Then, getting up, he went around his desk, and she rose as he came close. And, offering his hand, he said, “Deal.” 

She couldn’t help her own smile, relieved, as she took his hand and shook it. 

“Deal.” 


	7. Surprise!

**Rating:** PG-13 (swearing) 

* * *

* * *

* * *

Things were back on track again and Eli couldn’t have been more relieved. It’d only been a few days (and, yes, he was doubly relieved that it’d gotten sorted in such a short frame of time) but it’d felt longer with so much tension in him; he’d had to keep a constant eye on himself to make sure he didn’t crowd Jane or throw out another of his terrible jokes. 

Now that she’d sorted through her side of things he felt _much_ more at ease. And though they very rarely worked together directly, what with her being an assistant and not a designer, already things were running more smoothly. Besides, these last few days had mostly been setup. The real work was soon to begin and he knew Gray would be using every available tool in her toolbox, and that included Jane. 

Jane had chosen a good time to work through their messy past, given they were about to be working together whether they liked it or not. 

If he was honest, he was loving this project, too. The fabrics alone were worth the effort, ranging from satin to lace to taffeta to silk and everything in between -- and in a glorious multitude of colors and gradients. Some of it was opalescent, some shimmered like glitter, some almost gave off a mirror-like finish. It was an incredible set of fabrics. 

It was also a monster of a project to make it all work together, and one he was greatly enjoying. He could see everything he wanted to try before he’d even hit his sketchbooks, and they had so much of this fabric that they had room to experiment. 

Jane, too, was absolutely in love with their stock, he could see. Every time she passed by the design desks and sewing areas she would pause, stare at the bundles with longing, then move on with a fresh smile and a pep to her step. 

It was adorable. 

Even better, it gave him an idea -- or rather, a theme: energy. Movement. Not just in the colors or fabrics, but in the cut of them, the patterns, the accessories. It was cliche, but Jane managed to inspire him. Driven as he was by the concept, he had a dozen new sketches in progress by the time the day ended, and two dozen more by the next. His hand was cramping from all the effort he was putting forth, sure, but he didn’t regret a second of it. 

Within a week Jane was spending more and more time in the actual design part of things, at the very least helping by cutting fabric when a sketch was ready for testing, and by the end of the month she was putting her own designs on the table. 

They were still barely at the beginning of this project so very few sketches were kept, but that just meant every design helped _all_ of them. It was actually through this that Eli took a liking to a specific one of her designs and asked her if he could keep it for later. She agreed, and he put it aside but kept it in mind. 

With a few tweaks, he could easily see her style and his meshing to create something gorgeous. Maybe not something fitting for the current project, but gorgeous nonetheless. 

This contract was absolutely a labor of love. Even India seemed to be legitimately enjoying the process, though Eli guessed her attitude was partly improved because of remorse. Learning that she’d gone to Jane -- well, not to _apologize,_ but to set some things straight...it was a positive move. Granted, after everything that had happened he still didn’t trust India. He found himself side-eying her a lot when she was around, making sure she didn’t try to pull anything. Even so, he was glad that Jane was more relaxed when the two of them were paired together for a task. 

It was funny, in a painful kind of way: thinking of those two. One he’d really liked, and thanks to a few bad decisions, he’d slept with the other -- someone he hadn’t even liked, if he was honest. And she’d turned out to be using him to hurt the girl he _had_ liked. Of course, he’d been using her, too, but not to hurt anyone. It stung to know that she had. 

He really should’ve trusted Jane more. She’d turned out to be the far more trustworthy one between the two women. And it was hard to admit: the fact that he’d turned to India because he felt he couldn’t trust Jane, and India had been the one he really shouldn’t have chosen for that. He’d hurt a girl he’d truly liked by sleeping with someone else, ironically choosing someone completely untrustworthy due to feeling like he couldn’t trust someone who was. 

Regret, he mused. He hadn’t known it could be this debilitating until now. 

God, if he could go back and change that night...erase India from his life...but, he had to admit, without that event there was a good chance India never would’ve gotten to the point of letting go of her animosity towards Jane. Shitty though the situation was, ultimately it seemed to work out in a good way. 

It’d just been a metaphorical slog through a hedge of sheers to get here. 

One thing that kept returning to mind as he worked (partly, he assumed, out of guilt) was Jane’s dress -- the one she hadn’t been able to wear to their date because it’d become Cinderella’s dress for the play. It wasn’t really appropriate for where the date had taken place, he thought, but he would’ve killed to see her in it regardless. And, he found, that dress kept showing up in his sketches -- only in bits and pieces, but he could see it here and there nonetheless. 

Eventually he started doing it intentionally, trying to figure out if the cut of it would align with the fabrics they had on hand. It was quite the experiment, and if he weren’t a part of the current contract he would’ve been focused on it, alone. 

Alas, they had a set to complete. Granted, they also had a generous timeframe, but he still had to, you know, do his job. 

In the meantime everything felt better than before. Now that India was no longer working _against_ them -- or pushing them so hard while working _with_ them -- everything seemed to flow more easily. It really put into perspective just how much of an issue she’d been, though he hadn’t seen much of that, himself. 

Rumors flowed as the days turned to weeks, rumors that Jeremy had gone and started his own label using his contacts as backers and shareholders. Since he had more than enough experience and skill, he had no trouble getting employees, interviews, and generally a strong start. Though a lot of Donovan Decker’s employees -- those familiar and friendly with Jeremy -- were pleased, Eli...was not. 

Considering he’d gotten endless crap from Jeremy for their entire working relationship and how Jeremy vanished _with the sketches they needed to fulfill a contract_ on top of how Jane had ended up getting involved in everything -- specifically how she, alone, had had to track him down in London, spending all night doing so, an act which resulted in her school life _also_ getting monumentally more difficult…

Well, Eli put a lot of that blame on Jeremy, especially considering Jeremy’s actions were direct consequences of his own double-dealing with other companies. 

Suffice to say Eli honestly would’ve preferred hearing about Jeremy’s new life as a waiter rather than getting a restart of his fashion career with his own label. 

It didn’t feel right. 

Still, time passed in relative ease. Aside from a few close calls involving sketches, designs and fabrics going missing (hardly a surprise, given how many people were working on this contract; just about everyone had a need for something currently in use by someone else) everything proceeded well. They even managed to complete the set a week in advance. 

And that was when Eli was hit by a heavy dose of inspiration. 

* * *

With only two days left to go before the set was put on the catwalk, well, suffice to say Jane was wary of surprises. So when Eli sidelined her after work one night, saying he had a surprise for her, she wasn’t exactly keen on the idea. 

Granted, she liked the good kind of surprises, but after a good eight months of working at Donovan Decker she was understandably cautious of them. 

Reading the hesitant look on her face, he chuckled. “It’s nothing bad, I promise,” he told her. 

“Yeah, well, you promise a lot of things,” she pointed out. “Most of them turn out to be a prank.” 

He paused at that, then admitted, “That’s fair. But just come on. Cross my heart, you’ll love it.” 

“I find myself reasonably dubious about that,” she quipped. 

“Nerd,” he chided. 

She laughed. “Alright, fine. What’s the big surprise?” 

“It’s currently at my apartment,” he answered. 

Her brows lifted. “Your apartment?” she echoed, doubtful. 

“Yeah -- don’t worry, I cleared it with Ben,” he told her. “So he knows.” 

That actually made her _less_ agreeable. But, she reminded herself, Eli had been nothing if not a trustworthy, fun best friend for the last few months. And with summer break coming to a close, she didn’t have much time left available to just spend evenings hanging out with him. Soon she’d be back to school -- her Senior year, no less. She could already envision the amount of studying she’d have to do and admitted with difficulty that she’d probably have to quit her job before then. 

This could very well be the final stretch of time she had to just hang out with Eli. 

“Okay, sure,” she declared, gesturing him. “Show me this amazing surprise I’m allegedly going to love so much.” 

He smiled. And it was odd, but that smile was so different from so many others he’d given -- the awkward ones, the stressed ones, the silly ones. No, this one was just straight happy, like he’d been sincerely hopeful and she’d granted his wish, and it stirred up butterflies in her stomach. 

He was so god damn cute, she thought, both charmed and irritated. It wasn’t fair. 

“Come on,” he directed, inclining the way with his head; a part of her couldn’t help staring at his lips as he spoke. 

Well, that was one thing confirmed, then: she still had the hots for him. It’d been muted recently thanks to emotional stress and then work-related stress, but now it seemed to have come back full force. _Damn it._

Still, she was _very_ curious about this surprise, so she followed his lead. Once they were in his car, they made small talk -- mostly about the contract, somewhat about her back-to-school plans -- until they reached their destination. 

A skyscraper, she noted. An apartment building skyscraper. A part of her felt excited just to go in; she’d never been in such a fancy place before (that wasn’t because she was there to complete some task on one of Gray’s infamous lists) and she was curious what it’d look like inside. She counted almost thirty rows of windows as they walked up, before she lost sight of the top. 

“How big is this place?” she couldn’t help asking. 

Eli held the door open for her, answering, “Thirty-six floors. I think a dozen rooms on each floor.” 

“You think?” she echoed, doubtful. 

He shrugged wide. “Well, I never went to each floor and counted them all,” he defended. 

She chuckled. “Sorry. Good point.” Then, as they headed to the elevator, she checked, “So which room is yours?” 

“1507,” he answered; an elevator was open, so they strode inside and he hit the correct floor button. 

“Wow. Smack dab in the middle,” she noted. “Sucks to be you if the place catches fire.” 

“Loving your enthusiasm right now,” he retorted. 

“Yeah, well, I learned from the best,” she quipped. 

“Ouch. I deserved that,” he said. 

“Maybe just the once,” she allowed, giving him a smile. She’d forgiven him, after all. It hadn’t been easy, but she’d done it, and she was oh, so glad she had. This last contract had been equal parts a dream and a nightmare, and Eli had honestly made things better every step of the way. 

She couldn’t have imagined getting her parts done without him there to brighten her day all the time. 

“So, I’m curious,” she began as they got off the elevator. “Just what is this surprise?” 

Amused, he replied, “It’s of the weapons-of-mass-destruction variety.” 

“Oh, lovely. I have no idea how to use a gun,” she pointed out. 

“Who said it was a gun? I said a weapon of mass destruction,” he returned. “You’ll see. And don’t worry, I’m positive you know how to wield it.” 

“That makes one of us,” she commented dryly. 

“You’ll see,” he repeated, fishing out his keys. He opened the door and gestured her in, then followed, hitting the light switch. 

At once, Jane was in love. This place was so artistic; she could feel Eli’s presence everywhere, his style in the decorations and the few paintings on the walls and the furniture. Everything was a mash of modern, simple, and a little bit punk-ish. Dark colors, modern curves, nothing overly flashy. 

Simply put, this place radiated comfort. 

She couldn’t help wandering in, glancing around, taking in everything. It took her several moments to realize that in so doing, she’d been ignoring Eli entirely; ashamed, she faced him with a wince. 

“Sorry, I’m, uh...I was surprised,” she tried. 

He was smiling, amused as ever. He strode up to her, glancing around the way she had, as if trying to see things from her point of view. “Yeah,” he allowed, “I guess it’s not super ‘me’, is it?” 

“That’s just it -- it’s totally super ‘you’,” she told him. 

He looked down at her, brows high in surprise. “Really?” he checked, doubtful. 

She nodded. “It...feels like Eli Chandler,” she confirmed. 

And there it was again: that genuine, sincere, I’m-actually-really-happy smile of his. She couldn’t help feeling an intense _want_ at that look, so much so she had to look away. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly, his odd, airy voice making the word almost inaudible. 

Was it weird to like that sound? 

Rallying, she shook herself, reminded of her new rule (No Dating!) as well as the simple fact that Eli didn’t like her like that anyway. Aloud, she said, “So -- you got me here. Where’s this surprise?” 

His smile broadened at that. “This way,” he directed, gesturing a room; he followed behind her as she headed that way. 

The room in question was off to the left of the doorway, past the kitchen. Considering this was a new place, she had to feel for the light switch once she stepped into the room, and once she found it and switched it on, her breath caught. 

[ **In the center of the room was a dress.** ](https://www.deviantart.com/dragonslover1/art/Pink-Dress-849633845) At a glance, it was obviously made of at least some of the materials they’d had for their current contract, the full-length gown made of deep, rich pinks that shined in opalescent rainbows where the light hit it. So subtle but so gorgeous, she thought, enraptured. 

Gentle waves patterned the bodice, extending up from the v-shaped belt. Black trim lined the deep, sharp cut of the top half and reflected the light in different colors. The mannequin’s shoulders had long separate sleeves of the same material pinned to them. Feeling the skirts for herself, Jane found they were layered and very loose at the hem; three layers passed like silk across her fingers. 

She was so enraptured she barely noticed that this was a studio room, full of supplies and tools. The lighting was evenly-spaced and bright, there were two separate sewing machines (a glance suggested they had different settings), multiple closed cabinets, some with glass doors revealing the bolts of cloth and accessories contained within… 

It took her a long time to tear her gaze away from the wonder she was standing in, a room she felt was akin to Heaven. A part of her was absolutely aching to dive into the supplies and peruse the tools, the designer in her demanding she investigate everything there was to see. 

But she resisted. This wasn’t her home, her work area; this wasn’t even her dress she’d been fondling. Embarrassed at her own reaction, she turned back to face Eli, apologizing, “Sorry, I kind of lost my head there.” 

He had an elbow braced high on the doorframe, leaning on it and grinning. At her apology, he chuckled, righting himself. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for,” he told her, striding in. Then, gesturing the dress currently at her back, he asked, “What do you think?” 

“What do I think?” she echoed, facing it with a measure of difficulty. It was freaking _gorgeous_ is what she thought; a part of her wanted to just take it and run. “I think...I’m kind of angry that you made this all on your own...and I really, really love it.” It was such a regal, elegant gown, but the pink and the rainbow shimmers managed to make it look adorable at the same time. It should have clashed, she thought. Instead, it was just breathtaking. 

Looping an arm around her shoulders, he replied, “Good...cause it’s yours.” 

She froze, her mind stuttering to a halt. Struggling with the concept she’d just been given, she gave Eli a shocked look (he was smiling at her, pleased), then back at the dress. This repeated a few times before she managed to choke out, “T-this...this is mine? Me?” 

Totally straight-faced, he retorted, “Well, I made it for one Jane Quimby. If that’s you, then yes -- it’s yours.” 

Heartened and overwhelmed, she murmured, “You made a dress for me?” Her eyes filled, so touched it was physically painful. And, reminded that he’d said his surprise was a “weapon of mass destruction”, she finally understood. It was a beautiful creation; anyone would look stunning in it. 

His humor faded. Swapping back to fully sincere, he told her firmly, “Yeah -- I did. I made a dress for you,” he pressed, clearly trying to drive the point home. 

She honestly felt like she might cry. Her words were shaky as she demanded, “W-well, w-why? Why make a dress f-for me?” It was hard, keeping the tears in, and it wasn’t helped by the aching in her chest. 

No one had ever done this for her before. She’d been making most of her own clothes for years, pretty much since she’d learned how to use a sewing machine. She liked it, but she’d mostly done it because it was cheaper to buy supplies than finished products (and her own clothes lasted longer). But no one else had ever made her anything, not even her mother during the time Kate had stayed with them. 

Eli visibly softened. He reached up, brushing away her gathering tears with his sleeve, answering, “A lot of reasons. For one thing, I wanted to do something nice for you. I also felt kind of bad for only getting you a balloon for your birthday,” he added lightly. Then, more sincerely, he continued, “It’s also kind of a thank-you for all your hard work...and an apology for how I’ve treated you. But I think the biggest reason is just...I know no one’s given you something like this before, and I wanted you to have that.” 

Just like that, she crumbled. Her emotions took over and she ducked her head, hands covering her face, and started to cry. It was happy, yes; she felt so blessed right then, but that just made it harder to keep the tears from falling. So she gave up, letting the wash of gratitude and affection and appreciation take her. 

With a soft whine, Eli wrapped his arms around her, hugging her into him. He said nothing, just swayed a little, rocking them side to side, and rubbed her back until the tide ebbed. 

It took a while, and she wasn’t too ashamed to admit she’d totally clung to him in the interim. God, he made her feel so _full,_ like she might burst at any second. As they stood there, swaying in a way that was almost funny, she felt him stroking her hair and rubbing her back and it only worsened the riotous, needy cocktail inside her. 

She didn’t want to admit it, but right then she couldn’t really stop herself. Despite all her precautions, all her pep-talks, all her rules...she was still lost for this man. And, worst yet, he wasn’t even trying to do it. He was just being nice. 

How starved for friendship must she be, she wondered, that a few kind words and a gift were all it took to win her over? Even considering that this was a monumental gift -- a personalized dress, one of a kind, priceless in the world of fashion -- it still made her feel pathetic for falling apart so easily. 

At length, she forced the cries to stop. _That’s enough,_ she told herself. She was face-first in Eli’s shirt, her hands fisting his clothes at his sides, full-on leaning into him. She needed to get her head back on straight before she did something foolish -- like coming onto him. He’d just turn her down and she knew it, and she didn’t need that rejection right now. 

But, god, when she forced herself to back off and looked up, the warmth in his eyes made her want to just throw herself at him. 

He tilted his head, smiled, and started soaking up her spent tears with his sleeves again. 

She brushed him off. Her nose felt stuffy and she worried he might hear it as she said, “D-don’t do that. It’ll just r-ruin the fabric.” 

“Jane, I don’t care if I ruin a shirt,” he told her, tugging up her chin to continue where he’d left off. 

She gave him a dumb look (in between reflexive blinks when he got close to her eyes). “You’re a fashion designer,” she pointed out. 

He inclined his head, agreeing, “Yeah, well, no one said I wasn’t a contradiction. I don’t care if I ruin my shirts,” he repeated. “I can always get more.” 

Since he was obviously driven to do this, she let him. And, once he was done, she commented, “Scale of one-to-ten: how wrecked is my makeup right now?” 

“Uhh--” he started, then lifted his arm to check his sleeves. The white fabric was stained peach from her foundation in places and smeared in black from her mascara. 

It made her feel legitimately bad. But then, she’d warned him and he’d ignored her warning. 

“Moderately,” he concluded. 

She couldn’t help it. She laughed, already feeling better. 

Smiling at her, he said, “Don’t worry about your makeup.” Then, with more enthusiasm, he continued, “Worry about how long it’s going to take me to fit the dress to you.” 

Oh, Lord. 

Pivoting, she looked at the dress again -- and was hit with another wave of powerful emotions, loving the dress and appreciating Eli all the more for having made it. She bit her lip, eying it, wanting it more than she’d ever wanted anything. 

“Well?” he prompted, drawing her attention back around. “Want to get started?” 

He did, she could tell. There was a muted excitement in his eyes, the kind of thing she’d seen before: a designer’s passion. He didn’t just want to get her in the dress for her sake, he legitimately wanted to work on it, too. She could already see the pride and enjoyment in him, and the designer in her responded to it in kind. 

She took one more look at the dress and gave in. To Eli, she said, “Privacy, please?” 

He nodded, backing off. He left the room, shutting the door behind him. And it was odd, but Jane immediately felt the kind of comfort and trust she’d before only offered Ben and Billy. She didn’t just hope Eli would be good and stay outside the room, she outright _knew_ it. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in her as she took off her outer layer of clothing and began working her way inside the dress. 

The back was nonexistent, she found, only the most rudimentary of zippers at the back, within the belt. Yet the top held up fantastically well, the fabric reinforced -- wire inside multiple layers of fabric, she thought, based on the feel. Soft and gentle but with a strong form. 

Smart. She was impressed. 

“Okay,” she called once it was in place. 

He came in then, and she caught the eager look on his face as he gave her a once-over. She could see him visibly shifting into “designer” mode, even as the way he looked at her made her awkward. But his gaze wasn’t doing the gross male “undressing with the eyes” thing; no, he was catching on the details, the stitching, the shape. 

He wasn’t seeing Jane right then. He was seeing how the dress looked on Jane. 

It helped her relax. 

He took a few steps closer, commenting as he went, “The skirt’s longer than I thought it would be on you. But if you wear tall enough heels, we won’t need to change that. The midsection looks a little loose -- how does it feel?” he asked. 

“A little loose,” she confirmed. “But better loose than tight.” 

“Right,” he agreed, sidestepping to pick up a sketchbook and measuring tape. “Anything feel wrong? Anything catching where it shouldn’t?” 

She twisted for effect, getting a feel for it. And, impressed again, she replied, “No, actually. The stitching is smooth, even without a slip.” Then, side-eying him, she added, “Just how did you get my measurements so accurate?” 

“Aside from sizing you up?” he pointed out, guiding her arms up so he could put the tape around her waist. “You’ve posed as fit models before. It wasn’t hard to find those measurements. Although,” he noted with a more disapproving tone, “it seems like you slimmed down. You should watch your health a bit better.” He quickly added that measurement to his notes. 

She stuck her tongue out at him. “I’m fine,” she told him. “I’m not working harder than before, if anything I’ve been slacking.” 

“That doesn’t mean you’ve been eating right,” he countered, checking her hips next. 

“Right, sorry. I’ll eat more veggies, _Ben,”_ she hinted. 

He chuckled. “Sorry. I just don’t want to see you getting sick or hurt, that’s all.” 

She softened. “You, too, you know. You’ve practically been eating, sleeping and breathing this contract. When was your last break?” 

“Yesterday,” he answered easily. “But if you’re worried, don’t be. I have energy like you wouldn’t believe.” 

She stared at him for a long moment, then commented, “You sounded _so_ old just then.” 

With a scoff, he ruffled her hair, turning her mass of curls into a slightly more tangled mass. With a yelp, she tried to return the favor, but without shoes on -- limited to her 5’5” -- she just couldn’t get him back with him avoiding her hands like that. He was 6’, damn it, all he had to do was lean back and she couldn’t reach his hair. 

Right then she had the strongest impulse to tackle him. To get him on his back, to level the playing field -- oh, it was tempting. But her dress held her back; she wouldn’t risk damaging it. And so, instead, she quit swiping at him and folded her arms, giving him a perturbed pout. 

He was laughing, amused. “We done?” he checked. “Can I get back to what I was doing?” 

She gave a dramatic sigh for show. “Sure,” she intoned with dripping sarcasm. 

He reached for her hair again; she swiped his hand away, warning, “Do that again and I’m gonna start throwing punches.” 

“Scary,” he quipped, not an inch of him fearful. 

_Jerk,_ she thought, smiling. 

* * *

Jane spent a few hours at Eli’s. Most of it was working on the dress, with her lending a hand now that she knew what was up, with a break in the middle for dinner. Eli ordered take-out, Thai food, and they devoured it while sitting on his couch, chatting and absently watching TV. It was incredibly comfortable, almost to the point of being bizarre. 

Maybe it was because he acted younger than he was, she thought, or maybe because Jane had been forced to mature ahead of her own age. Either way, they clicked, like they were mentally in the same place even if they were six years apart. They laughed a lot, enjoying one another’s company, and though she had a vague sense of drifting away from Billy the closer she grew to Eli, she found that wasn’t such a big loss as she’d once feared. 

Over the last few months it’d been made clear to her that she and Billy mostly got along because they’d both so rarely had anyone else. Though she considered him a brother and would never downplay or trivialize their bond, she found herself truly loving the feeling of forging new bonds, too. 

Maybe it was the domestic setting, but Eli felt so familiar to her right then. As they talked and ate, pointing chopsticks at each other from time to time, she had the distinct feeling that she _knew_ him. And she liked that. 

She also kept getting little flickers of visions, too, which she was less than okay with: visions of her stopping him mid-word by leaning in to kiss him, or knocking the box out of his hands so he could put them on her, or imagining the feel of his fingers brushing through her hair. They were almost constant, yet strangely, they didn’t hamper or dissuade the fun going on. 

The thoughts would just flicker into being, vanish, and there wouldn’t have been so much as a hiccup to their conversation. It was so strange, she thought, yet it was even stranger that she didn’t feel disturbed. 

That was probably his fault, she concluded. He was being so relaxed, so straight-up friendly and throwing out numerous accidental insults and not-so-funny jokes, and it kept her at ease. Eli was just entirely too calm. She’d felt this from day one, that aura that made it impossible for her to feel awkward around him. 

She liked it. 

After dinner they decided she would _not_ try on the dress again, unwilling to test if her recent meal would change her measurements. So, instead, they hung out for a little while longer, letting their food settle. Eli drove her home after that, and they parted with a promise for her to come back tomorrow to finish the adjustments. 

She couldn’t wait. 


	8. Extra Formal

**Rating:** PG (swearing) 

* * *

* * *

* * *

The fittings and alterations for Jane’s absolutely gorgeous new dress went swimmingly the following evening. Again, they waited until after work then headed back to Eli’s apartment to get the rest of the work done. And this time they were pushing it a little hard, given the show was tomorrow night and Jane seriously wanted to wear this dress to it. Eli was encouraging of that, happily helping her sudden yet powerful wish come to fruition. 

And, as she stood there in the dress for him, letting him edit a small line of stitches that was threatening to pull, she understood something. 

She absolutely loved him. 

It wasn’t the same way she loved Ben or even Billy, but a way that seemed unique to Eli. She told herself that it was just affection and, yes, a dash of lust, but that was it. Specifically, she wasn’t  _ in love _ with him. She just appreciated him a lot, they got along fantastically (after two restarts of their relationship, granted) and their interests aligned. They could sit and talk for hours and never get bored -- they’d done so, in fact. Repeatedly. Plus they haven’t had a fight -- like a legit  _ fight _ \-- ever. 

She’d had fights with everyone else, but never Eli. Was that odd, she wondered? Well, no, she admitted after a moment of thought; she had plenty of coworkers with whom she’d never fought. Carter, in particular. She absolutely loved him, too, though it definitely felt different than the way she loved Eli--

_ No, shut up, _ she told herself.  _ Don’t think about that. _

Then, pausing, Eli commented, “Hang on…” He crouched down, looking close at a seam on the left side of the skirt, fingers carefully probing it. With a tisk, he said, “This is coming loose. Hold still,” he directed. 

He got another length of thread ready, then set in, hands diving under the skirt all the way to her mid-thigh to get at the fraying section. He was a complete expert, she noted, skillfully getting the repair done -- and fully professional, singularly focused on his task. But oh, man did this make her feel awkward. Granted, she was wearing leggings under the dress, but still. This exceptionally pretty boy was right there, a breath away, closer than any other boy had ever gotten to her thighs. 

_ Stupid hormones, _ she thought, annoyed.  _ Now really isn’t the time. _

She couldn’t really stop herself from being aware of him, though. He was just so damn attractive, and maybe part of it was the fact that the  _ way _ he was attractive changed depending on the angle? Cute, handsome, pretty, gorgeous -- depending on the way she looked at him, any or all of those words applied. A part of her just wanted to touch his face sometimes, if only to check that it was really his face and not some high-tech hologram. 

_ Who knows, _ she thought, amused.  _ He might be a robot or something. _ Wouldn’t that be a twist? 

In no time he was done with the fix, giving that section another careful set of probes before backing off, satisfied. Totally unaware of her imaginings, he just righted himself, nodding, visibly pleased with his work. 

“How am I looking?” she asked, partly to distract herself from where her thoughts had ventured. 

He gave her a once-over, replying, “Like you’re going to be breaking a lot of hearts. And it looks like it’s not going to pull anywhere else, so all good news,” he concluded. 

She smiled. “You know I’m not like that,” she told him. 

“Not intentionally,” he allowed. “You know, I get the impression you don’t know how attractive you are. Which kind of makes it worse,” he added, thoughtful. 

She glanced away. “Should we really be talking about this?” she said, uncomfortable. 

“No -- you’re right,” he agreed. Then, gesturing, he directed, “Take a stroll around the room for me. I want to check how it moves.” 

She did so, walking the perimeter where she could without running into furniture, giving a few spins here and there for effect. The skirts fanned out beautifully when she did, giving off opalescent glimmers where it caught the light just right. Now that she was actually seeing the breadth of the skirts for herself, she recognized that they were probably a full circle at the hem; surprised but pleased, she met Eli’s gaze. 

“This is a damn gorgeous dress,” she told him. 

He gave her another of his genuine, heartstopping smiles. “I’m going to take that as a ‘thank you’,” he hinted. 

She glanced down with a grin, happy and a little ashamed in one. “Thank you, Eli,” she replied, utterly sincere. 

With a nod her way, he answered, “You’re welcome, Jane.” 

It got a bit awkward, then. Unsure what to do next, she just gingerly held the skirts, twisting her hips side to side and watching how the fabric moved. At length, she offered, “So -- this is what I’m wearing tomorrow. What about you?” 

Shrugging, he said, “I’m not sure I’m going.” 

“What? That’s not fair,” she complained. “You can’t have me go there alone.” 

“You won’t be alone,” he pointed out, “you’ll have Gray.” 

She gave him a blank look. 

“...Good point,” he chuckled, relenting. Then, with another shrug, he continued, “I’ll just wear one of my suits, I guess.” 

“You guess?” she echoed. “You didn’t have one made up for this?” 

“No -- I couldn’t make a suit  _ and _ a dress,” he informed her. “Not in a week, anyway.” 

“Oh. Good point,” she returned. Idly wandering, she thought out loud, saying, “Well, maybe if I’d known what you were up to, I could’ve been making a suit for you while you were making a dress for me. Then we’d have this weird balance thing going on that no one else knows about.” 

With a chuckle, he allowed, “That would’ve been funny. Alas,” he hinted. “It’s not a big deal, though. No one cares about men’s fashion. Any suit is as good as the next.” 

She glanced at him, head tilted, thoughtful. “That’s...actually really brilliant. You’re right -- not nearly enough fashion is for men. It’s practically all women.” 

Following her train of thought, he said, “Maybe we could start changing that.” 

She smiled. “Pioneers of modern men’s fashion? I like the sound of that.” 

“As a side project,” he suggested. “I’m still full-time salary and you’re still an assistant. Not a lot of freedom, there.” 

Clasping her hands behind her back, she approached him, asking, “What’s some women’s fashion you’ve seen that you wish men could rock, Eli? What’s some things you’ve seen on women that you wish you could’ve worn, yourself?” 

She could see the wheels turning behind his eyes, imagining he was viewing something of a slideshow right then. She had a similar thing going on in her own head, picking out designs and accessories and features only ever seen in women’s fashion -- and applying them to men’s bodies. 

Critically, she didn’t think any of it looked  _ bad, _ just different. Odd. But, she reasoned, women were allowed to wear anything a man did and completely rock it. Why weren’t men allowed the same? Why was it that when they did, they were persecuted, bullied, demeaned? Why was men’s masculinity called into question in such a negative way when they wore skirts or a dress, but women’s femininity wasn’t called into question in a similar manner when wearing three-piece suits? 

It might be time to change some of that, she thought. 

At length, Eli offered, “Wings.” 

Unsure what he meant by that, she checked, “Wings?” 

“Yeah -- excess fabric, hanging down from the waist,” he said, gesturing his midsection in example. “Sort of like peplums, I guess. Maybe a basque. Just attached to a shirt, not a bodice.” 

Envisioning it, she commented, “That sounds kind of hot, actually. Just this bit of fabric hanging down by the thighs. Could be a really good look -- like those giant shirts guys like to wear, only good-looking.” 

He smirked. “Maybe someday I’ll be brave enough to wear something like that.” 

“No rush,” she soothed. “Fashion is always changing. Sooner or later ‘wings’ on men will totally be a thing.” 

He looked pleased by that. 

They spent the rest of the night talking about that concept -- a broader range of fashion for men, breaking away from the strictly masculine stereotype. After, of course, Jane got out of her dress and they worked out how to get it to the venue. The obvious route was just for Jane to take it home, but she didn’t want to risk moving the dress that much before tomorrow evening. 

Everywhere it went increased its chances of getting ruined somehow, and though she had faith in the stitching she didn’t want to risk it. Especially after what happened to her date dress by just taking it to the drama club -- suffice to say she was hesitant to take her clothes anywhere she didn’t have to. Ultimately they decided to leave the dress here and she’d come by tomorrow to get ready for the show. She planned on having her hair and makeup ready ahead of time, leaving her just to get the dress on and go, though she expected she’d be spending most of tonight stressing over what shoes and accessories to pair with it. 

Once they were both ready, Eli would get them to the show. And, yeah, some part of her realized how that would look -- a 23-year-old man and a pretend-25-year-old woman showing up together, but she soothed herself with the knowledge that they were just friends. 

Ugh, that was weirdly a little painful to admit. Damn Eli and his gorgeous eyes, unintentionally charming the Hell out of her like he does. 

They got dinner delivered again, and though Jane offered to pay for it since he’s been so generous with her lately, he waved it off. 

“I finally have enough money to splurge, let me splurge,” he told her. 

She felt a little bad but allowed it. She kind of liked people spending money on her, sure, even if she couldn’t quite erase the guilt of it at the same time, but he’d been just a little too  _ nice _ about it lately. But, well, he had a point. Besides, it was just dinner he was paying for. Twice, actually. No, three times, technically -- or four, if she counted the date at the restaurant and the hot dogs afterwards separately. 

Why was their relationship so complicated?! 

Once food was ordered, she noticed he was staring at her, amused. “Earth to Jane,” he teased. 

“Sorry,” she chuckled. 

“What were you thinking about?” he wondered. 

“Hot dogs,” she answered. 

“Hot dogs?” he echoed, confused. Tentative, he checked, “Did you want hot dogs?” 

“No,” she laughed, “I was thinking about...after our date. Before. The hot dogs,” she explained. 

Expression flashing with understanding, he nodded, though he looked away. Towards the television, he asked, hesitant, “What’re you thinking about that for?” 

“Just...counting all the times you’ve paid for my dinner,” she told him, awkward. “I was trying to figure out if the hot dogs counted as a separate meal or not.” 

“Technically, we never had a meal at  _ Le Petit Bordelais,” _ he pointed out. 

“That’s true,” she allowed. “On account of me spazzing out like I did.” 

“You did not  _ spaz out,” _ he replied. “You just got stuck in another woman’s dress. That came out wrong,” he added to himself. 

She chuckled. “Yeah, well, I shouldn’t have taken it to begin with. That’s on me.” 

Inclining his head, he agreed, “Yeah, can’t justify that one.” 

“You get points for even considering it,” she told him. 

He glanced at her, checking, “How many points? And what can I trade them for?” 

Caught, she stumbled over her reply, saying, “Uh -- five? Friend points, I guess? You can trade them for a...a high five,” she offered, lifting her hand awkwardly. 

“Sweet, five points!” he called, amused, and promptly gave her a high five. 

It had her laughing surprisingly hard. Maybe his usual jokes were pretty bad, but he made her laugh anyway.  _ Antics, _ she thought; he didn’t really have jokes, but he had antics. And those antics absolutely amused her. 

Worse, he always looked so  _ pleased _ when he got her to laugh, as if it were somehow vital for his daily life. Maybe it’s because it happened pretty rarely, she thought. She wasn’t a laugh-out-loud kind of girl, so it was rare when it happened. Not a lot of people succeeded in that endeavor. 

She appreciated that he could do it. 

* * *

After sending Jane home (she’d opted to take a taxi, so Eli had walked her out and waved goodbye) he went back to take another look at the dress. He couldn’t help it; it felt like such a rushed piece, yet it’d turned out even better than his sketches had implied. He’d only worked on it for four days -- six, now -- and that felt like such a short amount of time. He was constantly checking it to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, his critical gaze passing over every detail multiple times a day. 

The top was reinforced to hold the shape and after the last two nights it was fitted special to Jane, they’d chosen not to shorten the skirts, the waist was where it should be, the stitching was officially tight everywhere it had to be… It was done. There was nothing more to fix or change or reinforce. 

It was perfect, he thought, striding around the mannequin once more to see it from all sides. And it was absolutely gorgeous on her, too. Seeing her in it had been difficult on him, reminding him of who he’d thought she was before and leaving him with this feeling of pained want. 

As much as their relationship had broken down before, he still liked her. It hadn’t gone away over the last months, either; if anything, it’d gotten worse now that he really knew who she was. The time they’d been spending together, getting to know each other...they’d grown closer. And no matter what he told himself or what signals she sent his way, a part of him still wanted the woman he’d believed she’d been. 

This dress, for all that he’d said it meant, had managed to screw him up worse in that regard. She’d been so adorable and  _ young _ when she saw it for the first time, breaking down in front of him like she had. He’d been physically incapable of stopping himself from soothing her, and it’d been entirely too precious of a moment for him. He’d felt truly, sincerely  _ good, _ seeing her react like that. It meant he’d given her something invaluable -- which, as he’d told her, had been the main point. He’d wanted her to have that, a gift that meant something to her with no strings attached. 

Plus her tears had also helped realign his mental vision of her, pulling away from the 20-something she definitely wasn’t and pulling  _ him _ away from the feelings he’d once had for that facsimile of her. Yet, at the same time, it’d also brought him closer to the  _ real _ Jane, to the one who had to fake aspects of maturity while obviously displaying some of her own and all the while harbored a young and notably immature inner self. 

He was starting to really  _ know _ her, and this dress -- for all the good that it was -- had forged a wholly new kind of bond between them, one that honestly made him uncomfortable. 

Because this one made him  _ want _ in a way he simply wouldn’t allow. 

For a moment he stood before the dress, thinking, pondering on the future. Jane mentioning their date tonight had conjured up his old feelings at the worst time, and despite feeling them starting to die he also felt new ones taking their place. The more time he spent with her, it seemed, the more these feelings developed, keeping his eyes on her even when he should be focusing on other things. 

It was actually getting kind of shameful. 

He had to keep a grip on himself. No matter how he  _ felt, _ Jane was still technically a child. It was ridiculous for him to get so caught up in feelings for a damn teenager. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, envisioning Jane in that dress, contemplating the event tomorrow night...and he vowed that no matter what happened, tomorrow or the day after or next week or next year, he’d be good. He wouldn’t let himself fall into the trap of thinking that because she was  _ almost _ an adult he could pursue these feelings. Even on the off chance that he managed to convince himself it was okay, she didn’t want him -- not anymore. He’d screwed things up irreparably on that front and he knew it. 

She was a coworker and friend, a confidant for him as much as he was for her, and that was it. 

Period. 

* * *

Eli was almost ready by the time Jane arrived the next afternoon. The show started at five, so she got here early. He’d decided on a dark blue suit, designed to offset his natural brown hair and eyes, with a light yellow shirt for a splash of color and a slightly richer blue waistcoat underneath. Simple but effective, he thought. Also a little bold given his usual style of black-and-white, but Jane’s comments about men’s fashion last night had inspired him a bit. May as well go a little flashy for this event, after all; there was no way he could outshine the set they’d made this time. 

He’d been in the middle of attempting to tie his tie (simple, barely-visible dotted patterns in two shades of light blue), waiting to put on his coat until they were ready to leave, when Jane arrived, knocking at his door -- it was a fancier knot and he kept messing up despite the tutorial he was watching -- and he paused the work mid-loop to let her in. 

“Hey--” he started, then fell silent. She was wearing a simple outfit in white, a buttoned shirt and slacks, but she’d definitely made up herself beautifully. Her makeup was stunning, her cheeks, eyes and lips all done up in shades of rosy pinks, her hair put up with her bangs swept to one side. 

It didn’t match her current outfit at all, but that just stressed how much thought she’d put into tonight. 

“Hey,” Jane returned, clasping her hands together before her, a purse in her grasp. She looked awkward, he thought. Gesturing him, she said, “You look good. You know, for something you didn’t make for yourself.” 

That helped shake off his stun, and, amused, he directed, “You can use the sewing room. If you need anything let me know,” he said, gesturing her that way. His bedroom was the opposite direction, right of the entrance instead of left, and he headed back there as she went the other way, chiding himself all the while. 

God  _ damn _ but he’d gotten caught up in her beauty. That haircut of hers made it worse in the long run, too, because she looked so  _ mature _ like that it made him forget she was a teenager, still. 

Ignoring her entirely -- for now -- he went back to his task: tying this  _ freaking knot. _ It was a headache, honestly, and he was reaching the point where he didn’t know why he bothered. He may as well just go without a tie at all -- but, no, he reminded himself. His aunt wanted him there as one of the lead designers behind the set, both because he’d be there to help deal with mishaps and to flounce about with the upper echelon, and she’d asked (in Gray’s way) for him to dress formally for the occasion. At the very least, he could do that much. 

But damn it, he was still at it when he heard Jane calling for him a good ten minutes later. It was such a time-consuming thing, this knot -- both in the tying and in the untangling when he got it wrong. He yanked it free again as he went to check on her, letting it hang around his neck for the time being. 

He found her in easy sight in the living room, looking like she’d stepped out of a Disney movie. All made up with her hair styled and wearing some obviously  _ very _ tall heels, she looked like a dream -- and came pretty damn close to matching his height, he found as he strode her way. 

“Yeah?” he asked, reminding himself  _ again _ that she was off-limits. 

“Hi,” she offered with a little smile. “Just letting you know I’m ready. I wasn’t sure where you went,” she added. 

Ah, that’s right -- he’d never shown her to his room.  _ And you won’t, _ he told himself. Aside from the fact that it was private and they definitely weren’t  _ that _ close, he still harbored some ill feelings about having brought India there. Some part of him just didn’t want the two women meshing in that way, though he couldn’t really explain why. 

“I was in my bedroom,” he told her. “You look fantastic.” 

She glanced down with a warm, “Thank you.” Then, noting his tie, she checked, “You’re still working on that?” 

He gave it a look, then offered with a sigh, “It’s a really complicated knot.” 

She tilted her head. “You’re a professional fashion designer,” she pointed out, clearly baffled. 

“--and not an origami master,” he retorted; she chuckled. “Tell you what: I’ll give it one more shot, and when I fail, I’ll just go simple and we can leave.” 

Confused, she asked, “Do you not have instructions?” 

“I’ve been using a youtube video,” he explained. 

“...And you still can’t get it?” she checked, doubtful. 

“It’s complicated,” he defended. “I’d like to see you do better.” 

At once, he regretted offering the challenge. She was going to jump on that, he knew. 

He was right. 

“Actually,” she offered, thoughtful, “that might work.” 

“Oh, no…” he groaned. 

“No, hear me out -- the way you do it, you’re watching a video and using a mirror, right?” she said; he nodded. “Then maybe that’s your problem: you’re getting things backwards. Let me give it a try, okay?” 

She had a good point, he admitted. “Fine,” he allowed. “Wait here.” He went and got his laptop, bringing it out, then had her watch the video once. 

Aloud, she read,  [ **“Eldredge Knot, Revisited…”** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3YznKoRMq04) Then, nodding to herself, she watched the video start-to-finish (a whole four minutes), then gave him a look. “So...that’s  _ really _ fancy,” she noted. “Like...not for formal occasions. Like, you know, a fashion show at a venue,” she hinted. 

He gave a laugh at her reaction. “That’s the point,” he told her. “I want to make waves. I want to change things up. Like you said, there’s a weird imbalance in fashion for men and women -- like women’s fashion gets flashier and more colorful as it gets more formal, but men’s fashion gets simpler. Why?” he prompted. 

Thoughtful, she offered, “So men don’t outshine women, maybe?” 

“Probably,” he agreed. “But this is me...refusing to follow those rules, in a small way. Now, are you going to tie me or not?” he demanded. 

She smiled. Gesturing his laptop, she directed, “Play it again for me,” and lifted her hands to his neck, grasping the tie. 

He did so, holding the laptop in the crook of his arm for her -- which got really heavy  _ really _ fast, if he was honest. He toughed it out -- it wasn’t like he was in bad shape or anything, he had a mild daily workout routine he used to keep healthy -- and, he noticed, she seemed to be doing well. He couldn’t really check on it given he’d have to drop his chin to do so, but she at least wasn’t acting like she was recognizing mistakes. 

It was actually kind of cute, too: she was murmuring to herself as she worked, repeating what the narrator was saying in simpler terms. And from this angle, looking down at her, he could pick out just how thick her lips were, the fullness of her cheeks, how the shade of her eyes brightened by the rich pink of her dress. 

She really was gorgeous, he had to admit. He’d never lied or played that up. But, he reminded himself again, he’d wrecked that relationship real fast -- and even if he hadn’t, she was too young for him. How did that equation go, again? Your age, plus seven, divided by two? Wait, no, that was bad -- that came out to fifteen. Maybe it was divided by two, then plus seven?? That was eighteen-nineteen, which made a lot more sense. 

And, he admitted, he was just filling his head with nonsense as a distraction. 

It was really weird, having someone else tie his tie. There was a feeling to it, both physical and emotional, that he wasn’t sure he liked. The last person to do this had been his mother when he graduated five years ago. Since then he’d tied his own ties -- or used a clip-on, or just went without -- but then he’d always chosen the simplest knots until now. He’d jumped straight into what was considered the most complex knot with hardly any practice; it was no wonder he’d been having so much trouble--

“Got it!” she called, grinning. 

_ Um, what? _

She made sure the tie was straight, then folded his collar down and finally backed off, visibly pleased with herself. 

For all her joviality, Eli felt almost offended. Had she seriously managed to get it right on her first try? He reached up to feel it for himself but, unable to really tell from that alone, decided to go look. 

Setting the laptop down on the table, he said, “I’m going to take a look,” and hurried to his room. He had a three-mirror setup in one corner designed to let him take a thorough look at himself if an occasion required it (such as this one), and he promptly stood before it, unable to believe his eyes. She’d really done it, he admitted with difficulty. 

The braided pattern looked perfect. And Jane, someone who’d probably never had to knot a tie before, had done it on her first try? That was ridiculous -- but, he thought, should he really be surprised by that? She was a prodigy, too, and they clearly had different skill sets. The chances of them  _ both _ being terrible at ties was pretty low, all things considered. 

For a moment he couldn’t help admiring it. The folds looked great, and he thought the lighter blue really accented his choice of clothing for the evening. Granted, it was hardly his style, so fancy and formal, but he liked the way it’d come out. The tie really drew the gaze, which was the intended effect. 

With a sigh of defeat, he headed out again, snagging his coat as he went and shrugging into it. He was clipping the tie into place when he got back to the living room, finding that Jane had taken a seat on the couch while he was gone, looking like she wanted to jump on his laptop but choosing to keep her hands to herself. 

She might not even have one, he realized. He asked as he tucked the tie into his waistcoat, “Do you have a laptop?” 

She shook her head, standing up now that he was ready. “No. Billy does, and I used to use his a lot, but--” she tisked. “Anyway, closest I have now is the smartphone I only have because Gray demanded it. And paid for it. And technically owns it.” 

_ Noted. _ “I still haven’t upgraded my phone,” he confessed, grabbing his keys and wallet and leading them out. “Still have my flip-phone that can only do texts and play Snake.” 

She chuckled. “Get with the times, Eli -- you’re slacking.” 

“I’m a slacker, it’s what I do,” he returned. 

She gave him an amused look. “I have literally never seen you  _ slack _ at anything,” she pointed out. 

“Yeah -- because I slack at slacking. It’s a vicious circle,” he told her. 

“You’re so weird,” she chided, even as she laughed. 

“I will accept this,” he allowed. 

The drive to the venue was easy, if slow. Despite trying to get out after rush hour but before the dinner rush, the traffic was still a nightmare. It was a good thing they left so early or they’d have been late, showing up just ten minutes before five. Given he was a lead designer and was supposed to spend the majority of the event backstage in case he was needed, that was cutting it close. 

A valet parked his car for him and the two of them strode inside, seeking. And, wow, it was a lovely setup, he found; the ceiling was tall and lined in chandeliers, the lobby open and covered in golds and reds, the main room already lined with chairs. It was definitely fitting for the theme of the entire show: “grand”. 

Already a great number of people were here, from journalists to designers to VIPs to company representatives. Jane was clearly looking for Gray, so Eli opted to help, offering her his elbow so they didn’t lose each other while they searched. 

Gray wasn’t hard to find. She had a clear, strong voice he could hear from the opposite side of the building, and she was taller than most as well. She always had a little crowd of people nearby, waiting for their chance to speak with her, and this event was no different. 

Aunt located, he gave Jane a look. “Well, there’s your boss,” he said. “I’ve gotta get backstage. Knock ‘em dead,” he told her with a smirk. 

“An assistant doesn’t really do that,” she pointed out. 

“Maybe not, but that dress will,” he returned as he started off. He heard Gray calling to Jane a moment later, and in a way he felt relieved. He must be more protective of Jane than he’d realized, he thought, if he was more relaxed just knowing Jane was in Gray’s company. No matter what happened next, with Gray around he knew Jane would be just fine. 

He couldn’t help glancing at the others present as he went, curious. Some of them clearly noticed his flashier-than-a-man-should-be-at-a-formal-event style and eyed him with curiosity or confusion -- or disapproval; he gave those individuals a cheeky grin -- but he was honestly more looking to see what they thought of Jane. 

She quickly vanished from his line of sight, but he could still tell that others were staring at her. He’d noticed a little of that while they’d been searching for Gray, as well, proving his initial belief: that dress was a weapon of mass destruction. She would absolutely be breaking hearts tonight. 

...Which wasn’t a good thing, he realized a little late. Everyone here thought she was 25; they’d be treating her like she was 25. Men would flirt, buy her drinks; women would chat, telling her things in the way women only did with one another. Well, shit -- maybe encouraging her desire to wear that dress to this event had been a mistake after all. 

Too late now, he thought, relenting. He had his job to do and she had hers. He was already in his ‘work’ mindset before he’d even made it backstage, and then he jumped right in. Unsurprisingly, a few things had changed over the last few days, including which models would be wearing what -- which meant they had a few minor alterations to get done. 

He took off his coat and got to work. 


End file.
